She Tells Her Love
by CharaElpidaPistis
Summary: Brittana AU. "I've definitely never seen her before. I would have remembered her. I didn't know how to describe her. Sure, she was attractive, but hot just seemed like the wrong word. She's…beautiful. She's like a princess from a fairytale."
1. Chapter 1: Not Jewish

**a/n: Hey ;) I decided to give it a shot at writing a Brittana fic. I watch the show and have read a decent amount of fanfic. I'll try to match up my characters relatively close to the show, but it is an AU story. It's also from Brittany's perspective.**

**I hope you enjoy it! Please leave a review to let me know what you think, good or bad. Thanks! :)**

**Chapter 1: Not Jewish**

I've never given much thought to getting married. I don't really see myself as the type to have a boyfriend either for that matter. Sure I've kissed guys and done other stuff too, but that's only because they buy me drinks if I go dancing, and that's the only way I can pay them back. I don't have that much money to spend on drinks. Sometimes when I take Mrs. Gunderson shopping or help her clean her house she'll give me money that I can use to buy drinks. Sometimes I just buy special treats for Lord Tubbington instead.

The crowd of people around the park gazebo started clapping, and I squint my eyes against the sun so I can just see the groom lifting his bride up from the dipping kiss. The kiss is always my favorite part of a wedding, at least in movies. I've only ever been to one wedding. I got to be the flower girl for my mom's wedding when she married my stepdad, but I was only three. We looked super happy in the pictures, though, so I'm pretty sure I had fun. That was before Katie was born. I don't think she's ever got to go to a wedding.

The bride and groom are just making their way back up the aisle, hand in hand, and are making their way towards the shiny white limo parked at the curb of the park. They look so happy, and I can't help as the corners of my mouth lift up as I watch them peck each other on the lips before he helps her into the back of the limo. Wedding kisses are my favorite because everyone's so happy.

The wedding crowd slowly starts to disperse as the limo pulls away. I look around the park and realize the ducks have lost interest in me. How long have I been here? My shift probably starts soon. People always tell me that I get distracted too easily. I look down and realize that I've been done eating my lunch for a long time now. Of course it never takes long to eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the park because I can't help throwing pieces of the crust to the ducks. And if one duck gets a piece of crust, it's only fair that they all get a piece. That way they stay happy, and if they're all happy then they'll come back to say 'hi' the next time I spend my lunch break at the park.

I crumple up the plastic sandwich bag in my fist and stuff it into my shorts pocket so I don't accidently litter in the park. I'll have to remember to throw it away at work so it doesn't go through the laundry. Before I stand I run my thumb over the engraving on the bench seat.

_M+B_. Mom and Brittany. This is our bench. I remember Mom said if we leave our names on it then it will always be ours even if we didn't come to the park together. I didn't know you could carve your name on public benches, but Mom said it was okay because it was so old and no one would even notice. It's not hard for me to find though, but I know where to look for it.

I finally stand up and wave goodbye to the ducks. They quack at me when I walk away, and I think they're trying to tell me 'thank you' or 'goodbye.' I wonder if there are scientists that study what animals say. I should ask Katie. She knows smart things like that.

xXxXx

I push open the glass door into Holly's, and immediately I feel the frigid air from the AC. Rachel turns around from wiping down a table when she hears the bell, and her shoulders drop in an exaggerated sigh when she realizes it's just me.

"There you are, Brittany." She walks the couple steps towards me. "Your shift started 10 minutes ago." I look around the café and notice Bob reading his newspaper at his regular table towards to back. He's here everyday at the same time. Newspaper and black coffee. I think he comes here because he doesn't know what to do ever since he retired, and maybe he has no friends. At least he's never brought a friend with him to the café. I turn back to Rachel and notice she's looking at me like she's expecting an answer. Did she ask me a question?

"Are you supposed to go home? Are you late for something?" I asked her. Maybe she had somewhere to be and couldn't leave until I got here because Bob was still finishing his coffee and reading his paper.

"No, Brittany, I do not have somewhere else to be. My shift doesn't end for another hour, but punctuality is a fundamental business virtue, and I suggest you get a watch so you can get here on time." I look down at my feet and start to scuff the left toe of my converse on the tile floor. "Really, Brittany, this is the real world, and this is your job. You really need to make an effort here. And what have I told you about not slouching?" She grabs my shoulders and pushes them back, forcing me to stand up straight. I lift my chin and meet her eyes, and she gives a satisfied nod before heading back to the table she was wiping down when I got here.

I haven't known Rachel for that long. I started working at Holly's a year and a half ago, and she had only been working here five weeks before me. The way she acted when I got here though you'd think she owned the café. It didn't surprise me that she quickly got promoted to assistant manager. I didn't mind though. I'm not smart enough to make the important decisions, and I think Rachel is good at making important decisions and likes deciding things because it makes her feel important. And even though she can be really bossy sometimes and forces me to do things like wear my hair up in a ponytail and stand up straight (even though there's nothing in the employee manual that says we have to do those things) I like her, and I think we're friends.

I slowly walk around the café counter, head back towards the kitchen and veer off into the small employee room. I walk to my cubby, pull out my black apron, and reach my arms behind my back to make a bow with the apron strings. One time I forgot my apron at home and I dropped a latte all down my front. It was super hot and my legs felt like they were on fire. My boss made me sit in the back and put ice on my legs, and she told me that's why we wear our aprons. Even if she hadn't told me that I still wouldn't forget my apron again. It really hurts to spill hot coffee on you. Now I just leave my apron here all the time so I don't forget it, but Rachel sometimes takes it to her house to wash it for me, but she never forgets to bring it back.

I make my way back out to the café. No new customers, and it looks like Bob is just about finished with his paper, which means he'll be heading home soon too. Afternoon shifts are the worst because there's never anyone here and I get super bored. Although we do sell food too, most people come to the café for coffee in the morning. Once school starts again next week we get busier because college students drink coffee all day long, not just in the mornings. Then it's not so bad to work in the afternoons because there's always people around.

The rustling of newspaper snaps me out of my reverie. Bob slowly folds his paper back up and tucks it under his arm while he stands.

"Brittany," he smiles at me and tips his hat while looking my direction, "always a pleasure, my dear."

I smile back at him and give him a little wave. "Thanks, Bob. I'll see you tomorrow." He smiles one last time before turning and heading towards the door.

I turn my back to walk over to his table, pick up his coffee mug, and take it behind the counter to the dirty dish bin. It's the only dirty dish in the bin. Puck must have grabbed the dishes left from the lunch rush before I got here. I'm surprised he's here already. He's always late to work because he sleeps in too late or is busy hanging out with his friends. He doesn't seem to care that much, but he's a hard worker when he's here. Plus Holly is his aunt, and I think it's against the law or something to fire family members if they work for you. They don't look that much alike though. I wonder if Holly is Jewish too.

I snap my head to the café in search of Rachel so I can ask her if Holly is Jewish. As I turn, my eyes open in shock as they land on a young woman standing at the counter. How did I not hear her coming in the door? She must have snuck in while Bob was walking out.

"Hi." She says with a satisfied smile. She can obviously tell that she's startled me. I just stand there with my eyes wide and my mouth slightly hanging open.

I've definitely never seen her before. I would have remembered her. Her skin was a natural tan that shone radiantly in the sun coming through the front windows. Her dark hair was falling in rolling curls around her shoulders, and her eyes were a warm yet mysterious brown that made me want to lean in to see if I could see something else in them. My eyes slowly dropped down and saw she wore red canvas flats that perfectly matched the red of her slouchy tank top, and short denim shorts that showed off her toned bronze legs. Abruptly, I realize that I still hadn't said a word and snapped my eyes back to her face.

"I'm not Jewish." The words were falling out of my mouth before I even knew what was happening. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Her face changed from an amused smile to one of confusion. Just as quickly it changed back to a smile, but one that seemed to be holding back a laugh.

"That's good to know," she said, finally letting out the little giggle she was holding back. "I'm not either." I don't know what to say, and I don't want to say something stupid again, so I just stare at her, fixated on her deep, dark eyes. I don't know how much time has passed until I feel Rachel standing next to me.

"Brittany! For heaven's sake, what are you doing?" Rachel's question seemed to snap me back to reality. "Did you even take her order?"

I turn to look at Rachel, "Uh, no. I…" I've worked at this job for a year and a half. How did I forget to take her order? "I forgot." I turn back to the girl but get interrupted before I can ask her what she'd like.

"Well why don't you go refill the salt shakers, while I'll take care of the customer." I look back to Rachel, who is impatiently staring at me, then back to the girl, who is now trying (unsuccessfully) to hide her amused grin, then finally back to Rachel.

"Yeah. Okay." I turn quickly on my heels and make a beeline for the back. I can still feel the heat burning my cheeks. I'm sure I must look as red a tomato right now.

I can hear Rachel apologizing to the girl for my behavior as I reach the kitchen door. When I slap the door open, Puck looks up at me. Seeing my flustered red cheeks causes him to smirk.

"What happened?" He asks with a chuckle. He puts down the knife he was using to cut carrots and quickly wipes off his hands before throwing down the towel. He leans both fists against the counter and looks at me expectantly.

"Nothing," I say rather quickly. What did happen? "There was just a girl, a customer, and I forgot to take her order, and then I said something really stupid."

"Haha! Classic Brittany!" Puck threw back his head in an exaggerated laugh. "What did you say?" He looks back at me, his face plastered with a huge grin.

"Um…I said that I wasn't Jewish. I don't even know where that came from." I shake my head and cover my face with my hand. "I am so random!"

"Did she say something back?" Puck mimics me and shakes his head, waiting for me to continue.

"Uh, yeah. She said she wasn't either." I let out an embarrassed laugh. She must think I'm a complete idiot.

"Ah, too bad. My mom keeps bugging me to date a Jewish girl…" His voice trails off and he picks up the towel he tossed down earlier. Suddenly he snaps his eyes back to me and he asks, "Was she hot?"

"What?" I was a little surprised by his question. I shouldn't be surprised; I mean it is Puck I'm talking to after all. He does date a lot of girls and is constantly checking out any decently attractive female that steps into the café. "Oh, I mean, she's…" I didn't know how to describe her. Sure, she was attractive, but hot just seemed like the wrong word.

"Well if the first thing that pops into your head isn't, 'Yeah, Puck, she's smoking!' then I'm not wasting my time with _that_ one." Puck seems to have lost interest in my story. He picks up the knife and continues on the carrots.

I stare at the cutting board, watching the blade go back and forth, up and down. It's not that she wasn't hot. I'm sure Puck would love to go out with her. There's a better word to describe her though. She's…beautiful. Like a kind of beautiful that doesn't belong in a normal place like Lima. She's like a princess from a fairytale. She belongs in a fancy city, or maybe in a magazine advertising makeup or dresses. Maybe she's a model…

I slowly turn around and reach my hands up to tighten my ponytail. I take a deep breath and push open the door to enter the café. Rachel is the only one there, but I still look around to make sure there is no one that can surprise me again.

"If you're looking for the customer you so rudely handled, she left." I shift my eyes down to my shoes again and nervously rub my fingers in front of me. "She just wanted a coffee to go" At least she still ordered something and I didn't completely lose her business by acting like an idiot. I lifted my chin just for a second, long enough to catch Rachel's glance at me before she returns her attention to the napkin tray she is currently refilling.

She continued talking, "Thanks to you she didn't leave a tip, but luckily I'll probably have another chance to win her over." At this my eyes snap back up to Rachel, but I only see the back of her head. "She just moved here. Her family is setting up shop in the vacant lot across the street."


	2. Chapter 2: What I'm Hoping For

**a/n: Thanks so much for reading! I was surprised how many people read the story, but as long as there's interest I'll continue. I'm kind of going at it chapter by chapter at this point, although I do have a general idea of where the story is going to end up. **

Oh, I just started a tumblr:** chickpeahearts11 .tumblr .com **(without the spaces, of course)

I also recommend listening to the song in this chapter:** .com/watch?v=oZdiXvDU4P0 **(add youtube in front of the link)

**Again, I'd love any comments/critiques you might have. Enjoy! ;)**

**Chapter 2: What I'm Hoping For**

I stand against the café counter and watch the skinny red stick on the clock as it slowly tick off the seconds. Rachel had left several hours ago and was replaced by Holly, but since we had only a couple customers Holly just went back to her office to do important work but said to come and get her if I needed anything.

Rachel did leave me a list of tasks to do to be prepared for customers in the morning, and they kept me busy for a couple hours. I was able to finish most of the things on her list - replenished the sugar stash, wiped down the tables and chairs, swept the floor, and took the creamer containers to the back. The rest of the things I tried but wasn't sure if I was doing it right. Something about balancing the cash register… I looked at it from all angles, though, and as far as I can tell it's pretty evenly balanced on the counter. To be exact I'd have to get a level, but I don't think we have that tool here. She also wanted me to print a list of total sales from the day, so I just pushed random buttons on the register until a receipt came out, hoping it had the numbers she needed. At work I hardly ever work the register. Not only am I bad at adding up the totals and giving correct change, but the register has so many buttons and I can never remember which one goes with which drink. People in line start to get angry when I take too long. I'd much prefer to just make the, coffee drinks. There's so many different kinds of milks and syrups and it's so fun to mix them together. My favorite thing is getting to put a giant pile of whipping cream on the top. And sometimes I even get to drizzle caramel or chocolate over the whipping cream. It looks so scrumptious, like Christmas in a cup.

I don't like drinking coffee drinks that much myself unless I make it extra sweet, and I make sure to put a huge whipping cream tower on top. Rachel said I wasn't allowed to make my own coffee drinks anymore because I get too hyper from all the sugar, but I still do when she's not here.

I glance up at the clock again. I'm not really good at reading time on the old fashioned clocks with the moving sticks, but I know that I get off at nine today. Rachel taught me that when I close I get to go home when the long black stick points straight up and the short stick points at the nine. Right now the long stick is at the nine, and the small stick is halfway between the eight and nine, so it's not time to go home yet. I don't understand why everyone doesn't use the clocks that actually tell you what time it is…

I scan my eyes around the empty café. I can't wait for college to start again so there's people here all the time. My eyes move to the front windows. The last of the day's fading sunlight is spilling onto the street outside. No one is out walking in the streets right now; after all it is kind of late.

I spy the empty lot and adjacent building across the street. That's where Rachel said that the family of the girl who I embarrassed myself in front of is moving in their business. I wonder what her family does. Probably something fancy like selling pretty dresses or expensive jewelry, because she looked like a fancy person, so her parents were probably fancy too. Or maybe her dad sold really shiny cars. I guess I'll find out soon…

_Oh, crap_! This is the only decent place to get a coffee within a few miles, so the chances of seeing the girl again are pretty high. _Stupid, Brittany, stupid_! Rachel always says that first impressions are important in a business place. Maybe I should apologize, just tell her that I was surprised and am not usually that awkward. And maybe I'll offer her a free coffee on the house for the bad service she received. You know, win the customer over. I'll turn on my Brittany charm and show her that Holly's is a place with great customer service and a caring staff. Oh, Rachel is going to be so proud of me.

"Hey, sweet cheeks! Why are you smiling? And what are you still doing here?" I turn around to see my boss, Holly, walking towards to front door. She reaches it and flips the 'open' sign so it reads 'closed' while also locking the front door. I whip my eyes to the clock again and see that the little stick is a little bit past the nine and the big stick is at the two. Does that mean it's after nine?

"Is my shift over?" I ask hopefully. Maybe Holly doesn't have to know I can't read the clock.

"Yeah, girlie! It's 9:10. Get yourself home," she says. I start to stand up, "And great work today!" She gives me a wink and a thumbs up as she walks back to her office. I wonder if she knows that I've hardly worked at all today. Holly is super nice and chill like that though. I bet she knows that I would have worked really hard if people were actually here.

xXxXx

I pull up to the curb in front of my house and turn off my old beater car. It's not much to look at, but it gets me to and from work. I'm glad I at least don't have to walk everywhere. I glance over at Mrs. Gunderson's house and notice her trashcan is still at the curb. I make my way over and drag it back towards the side of her house. I usually take it to the curb because it's too heavy for her to lift, but if she forgets to take it back in she'll hit it with her car as she's backing out of her driveway. That's happened a few times, and each time I had to sneak into the garage to borrow a hammer from my stepdad's tool bench to pound out the dents and return it before he notices it missing. So it's easier if I can just remember to take the can back in. I still forget sometimes though…

As I make my way back to my own house and push the door in I'm immediately greeted by the cries of Lord Tubbington as he waddles his way over to greet me.

"I hear you, I hear you." I lean down and pick him up so he will stop meowing. "I bet you're hungry, huh?" I forgot to feed him this morning before I left for work, and my sister and stepdad don't ever feed him because they say he's too fat and needs to hunt for his food to get exercise. But Lord Tubbington only likes human food and the fancy wet kitty food.

I make my way into the kitchen and set Lord Tubbington down next to his food dish before I open a can and pour it in his dish.  
"There you go." I reach down and scratch behind his ear as he starts eating. "Eat up, little guy."

"Brittany?" I hear my stepdad yell from the other room. I walk the couple steps from the kitchen to the living room and peak my head in to see him sitting in the recliner in front of the TV. I quickly scan the room and notice that Katie isn't here. I'm not surprised. She's really popular and smart, so she's always being invited to parties and sleepovers at friends' houses.

"Yeah, Brian?" Ever since I was little I've always called him by his name, never 'Dad.' After Katie was born and started talking it was kind of weird at first when she started calling him 'Dad,' but eventually I got used to hearing it.

"Where have you been?" he asks in an irritated tone. I notice the empty bottles on the table by the recliner. I know when he's been drinking he gets upset really easily over silly things, so I just try to keep my voice calm and respectful.

"I just got off work. I came straight home, I promise." I offer a small smile, hoping he'll catch on that I'm trying to be respectful.

"Well, get me another beer then go to your room," he spits out brusquely, "I had a rough day at work and I don't need you ruining the one peaceful moment I've had all day." He turns his attention back to the TV, but I just nod in response, not wanting to say something that could spark his anger. Apparently my respectful approach didn't work today. I make my way to the fridge then quickly hand over the beer and head to my room before he can say anything else. I close the door once I'm alone and move over to sit on my bed. I slip off my shoes and flop back down on the bed letting out an exhausted sigh as I close my eyes.

I feel bad for Brian. Even after all these years he's still really upset about Mom. I don't think he was really prepared to raise two girls on his own. I bet he misses her a lot. I mean, she was my best friend and my mom. But _they_ were married and in love, and people in love have a hard time when they're not together. I think that the drinking helps him not miss her so much. I was only twelve when she died, so I learned to deal with my sadness by going to the park and sitting on our bench and talking to the ducks. They helped me feel better, less lonely. And even though I still miss her sometimes, I'm not as sad as I used to be. But Brian didn't have a bench like Mom and I have, so I guess the drinking is kind of like his ducks, it helps him feel less lonely.

I slowly open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. It's the kind of ceiling that's all bumpy and has textures in it. I like to look up at it and try to make out shapes like some people do with clouds. If I find a really cool shape I stand on my mattress or desk and try to outline it in pencil so I can find it again. So now when I look up at my ceiling I can see dozens of pencil outlines of different animals and shapes.

The silence in the room is interrupted by the obnoxious growl of my stomach. I haven't eaten since lunch, and even then I shared half of my sandwich with the ducks. I think about the probability of me sneaking to the kitchen without upsetting Brian with my noise. I slowly get up from my bed and make my way to the door. I turn my head and place my ear against the wood. I can only hear the faint humming of conversations from the TV. I place my hand on the doorknob while keeping my ear flush against the door. I slowly start to twist the handle. Suddenly I hear a loud cough erupt from the living room and quickly jerk my hand back from the handle. I don't want to risk upsetting Brian any more than I already have.

I remember I have half a piece of toast on a plate on my desk. I was running late to work and forgot to finish it this morning. I pick it up and take a bite. It's really hard and crunchy from being left out, but it's better than going to bed with no food at all. I'll try to remember to eat a big breakfast to make up for it.

I eat the remaining piece of toast and walk over to my bed to turn on my lamp. I cross my room once again to turn off my overhead light and slip off my shorts as I walk back towards my bed, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

I crawl up to my pillow and collapse down on it. It seems early to be going to bed, but I did have a long day at work. Thinking back I wish I would have grabbed Lord Tubbington while I was getting Brian's beer and brought him to my room. I don't like sleeping by myself. Lord Tubbington doesn't like me cuddling him too much, but if I just put my hand on him he'll let me keep it there and will stay on my bed. It's just nice to know that I have someone looking out for me and keeping the monsters away while I'm sleeping. Maybe after Brian falls asleep I can sneak out and get him.

xXxXx

I wake up abruptly and jerk into a sitting position. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I can feel a layer of sweat coating my body. Both fists are tightly gripping my sheets, making my knuckles white. I slowly pry my fingers open and bend them to try to return the feeling. I close my eyes, place a hand over my heart, and take a deep breath.

I never remember the details of my nightmares, only that they're frightening. I remember when I was little I would run to my mom's room and shake her awake with tears in my eyes. She would walk me back to my room, hold me in her arms and stroke my hair, then sing to me until I fell asleep. She always made me feel safe and I could sleep the rest of the night.

I roll onto my stomach and reach for my phone on my nightstand. It's a real clock so I can read it. _5:36_. The probability of me actually falling asleep and staying asleep isn't very high, so I decide to just get up. I don't work until seven this morning, so I have some time. The sun won't rise for another hour or so, but I decide to switch my lamp off and open my window blinds. That way I won't have to keep and eye on the clock, because I'll know that I'll have to leave for work shortly after I see the sun rise.

I open the drawer in my nightstand and pull out my iPod. I unravel the headphones and pop the buds in my ears before choosing a song. As soon as the soft piano melody starts, I close my eyes and start to sway.

_Slow down, you crazy child, you're so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you're so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?  
_

I start adding my arms and slowly turn around my room, keeping my eyes closed._  
_

_Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day._

I step up in the complexity of my moves, keeping in perfect rhythm with the song._  
_

_But you know that when the truth is told… That you can get what you want or you get old. You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you? _

There's just something about dancing that I can't get enough of. It's the only time I ever feel like I'm truly expressing myself and doing something that I'm good at, even if no one is watching._  
_

_Slow down, you're doing fine. You can't be everything you want to be before your time, although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight. Tonight... Too bad but it's the life you lead you're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need, though you can see when you're wrong, you know, you can't always see when you're right. You're right…  
_

The music is so peaceful and calm. I don't know what the words means, but it feels like a hopeful song, so I like it, even though I don't know what I'm hoping for._  
_

_You've got your passion, you've got your pride, but don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?  
_

Even though it's a man singing the song I always pretend that my mom is singing it to me from heaven, and she's watching me dance with a big smile on her face. She always loved watching me dance._  
_

_Why don't you realize, Vienna waits for you. When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?_

The next song that comes on has more of a beat. I pick up the pace and use the small space between the bed and my door as a dance floor. I've always loved dancing. I even used to take lessons, but as I got older they got too expensive to continue.

xXxXx

When it's finally time to get ready for work I have a gleaming layer of sweat covering my body. I take a rushed shower and quickly dress before towel-drying my hair and throwing it up in my work ponytail. As I head to the kitchen I notice Brian fast asleep and snoring in the recliner. He must have fallen asleep watching TV. I decide to skip looking for breakfast because I'm afraid I'll wake him up looking through the cupboards. Maybe Puck can sneak me a chocolate scone at work. As quietly as I can I slip out the front door and softly close it behind me.

xXxXx

I pull my car into a spot behind the café. As I'm getting out of my car I see Tina pull up beside me. She's really nice and sweet, but really shy. I enjoy working with her because even when I mess up she still smiles at me and tells me 'it's okay.'

"Hi, Tina." I smile at her and wait behind my car so we can walk in together.

"Good morning, Brittany," she replies. "You look cute today."

I look down at my outfit because I forgot what I put on this morning in the rush to get to work on time. I'm wearing a simple, white cotton skirt with a bright blue v-neck. "Oh, thank you," I smile at her and see she's wearing dark skinny jeans and a black shirt. "You look nice too." She smiles in return and we start walking towards the café.

After we set our personal belongings in our cubbies and get our aprons on we meet Rachel behind the counter.

"Good morning, ladies. How are we all doing today?" She looks between Tina and me. I start to reply but she cuts me off, "Excellent! Let's prepare for another successful day." She quickly turns and heads to the front door to switch the sign to 'open' and unlock the door. I guess that's our cue to get to work. I look over at Tina, and she just nods before heading off to the kitchen, where I'm assuming she'll do food prep. Rachel is already making her way back to the register, so I take my place behind the espresso machine and begin to prep it for shots.

xXxXx

I've been at work for three hours now, but it really doesn't seem that long. Shortly after we opened at seven we had our first customers show up, and since then there's been a steady flow. We're just starting to see a lull, when I notice Rachel rush past me. I think she mumbled something about peeing. I look to the front counter and notice that there's no new customers. I hope no one comes until Rachel gets back so I don't have to work the register. Just as I finish my thought I hear the bell of the front door. Of course, I think to myself as I roll my eyes. I quickly dry my hands on my apron and walk over to the front counter, forcing a smile on my face.

"Welcome to Holly's. How may I he-," I freeze when I finally catch sight of the brunette from yesterday standing in front of me. "Oh, hi. It's you." At least I get out a somewhat normal sentence. I think back to yesterday. That's right: show her Holly's excellent customer service, and give her a drink on the house to make up for the bad service I gave her. I plaster on a confident smile and take a deep breath. When I finally look at her face I see that she's wearing that same grin again.

"Uh," I continue, "I wanted to apologize for being so awkward yesterday. I'm not usually like that. You just surprised me is all and I didn't mean to be rude. Let me make you a coffee, anything you'd like, free of charge, for your good customer service. I mean, for your bad custo-, I mean, _my_ bad customer service." At some point in the conversation I must have looked away from her, because I find myself staring at my shoes again. I decide to take a chance and peak up at her face again. Her face is a mixture of amusement and surprise. Maybe she didn't catch everything I said because I said so much in a short amount of time.

I decide to try again, "So…can I make you a drink?" I stare at her eagerly.

"So this is the girl who told you she's not Jewish?" I'm shocked to hear the other voice. Another girl with short blond hair and dazzling green eyes appears at the girl's side and is giggling to herself with an amused smirk. How did I not notice her before? She looks me up and down before turning back to her friend.

"Quinn…," the brunette huffs under her breath. She rolls her eyes at the blond before looking back at me. She looks a little embarrassed, but it's hard to tell if she's blushing because her skin is so tan. She's definitely not red like I get, but a rose pink tinge appears to be mixing with the natural color of her cheeks. For some reason, this makes me feel a little less nervous.

The brunette rolls her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then suddenly she goes from looking uncomfortable to beaming with confidence. She leans on the counter with one arm and gives a quick glance to her friend, Quinn, before looking me straight in the eyes and saying, "I would absolutely love a caramel mocha, um…." She looks at me questionably, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open.

"Oh, um, Brittany! I'm Brittany." I spit out.

"Brittany," she repeats with a smile. "I would love it if you could make me a caramel mocha, Brittany."  
"And I'd like a vanilla latte, please." Quinn requests. She turns to her friend before adding, "I'll go find us a table." Then Quinn walks away, leaving me alone with the brunette.

I promptly nod my head and grab the black marker to write their orders on two cups before I forget. As I'm writing on the second cup I hear Rachel's sharp voice spill through the air.

"Brittany!" I hear her rush over to me and feel her pull me back by my elbow causing me to draw a long line on the cup with the black marker. In a hushed tone she hisses, "Brittany, that's the same girl. Why don't you go in the back until she leaves? You don't want to make another bad impression. Then she'll never come back." I hunch my shoulders and cast my eyes to my shoes. I didn't even think of that. Rachel is usually pretty smart when it comes to running the café, so I guess I should just do as she says before I make things worse.

"Um, excuse me." I turn to the brunette across the counter and see that her smile has disappeared and she's glaring at Rachel with her eyebrows raised and finger pointing in the air. "I was very specific in that I want _Brittany_ to make my drink, not you, Man-hands."

Wait… Did she just stand up for me? To Rachel? I glance at Rachel and notice her stunned face, eyes wide open and jaw hanging low. I try to fight it, but I can't help the small smile that cracks through my lips. Never have I ever seen anyone make Rachel go speechless like that.

"Move along now afores I make an official complaint to management about you." She shoos Rachel away with her hand and just glares at her. Eventually Rachel turns around with the same dumbfounded expression on her face, and I watch her go through the door to the back. I turn back to the brunette to see her looking at me with her satisfied smile back in place. I return the smile and feel the familiar sensation of heat rising to my face, so I turn my eyes back to the cup in my hand and try to write the correct drink order down.

"I'll, uh, bring these right out to you." I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

"Thank you, Brittany," she responds before slowly turning and making her way over to the table Quinn picked out.

I watch her until she sits down at the table. I finally turn away and turn my attention to making the drinks. I take extra precaution to make the drinks just perfect. After all, this is my one chance to make up for my bad first impression. After several minutes of precise measuring and careful pouring I finally have both orders ready. Before I put the lid on the brunette's mocha I grab the caramel sauce and draw a smiley face on top of the whipping cream. Even though she probably won't see the drawing because a lid will be coving it, I wanted to draw a smiley face because she made me smile.

After securing the lids I carefully walk the drinks over to the table where the girls are sitting.

"Alright," I say as I'm approaching them. "I have one vanilla latte," I set Quinn's coffee in front of her, "and one caramel mocha." I turn to the brunette and set this in front of her. "Anything else I can get you?"

They steal a glance at each other before the brunette answers, "No, thank you, Brittany. This is perfect." I give a quick nod before heading back to the espresso counter.

When I get to the counter I can't help the foolish grin that takes over my face. I can't believe I worried so much about being so awkward yesterday. How long have I been doing this job? Plus she seems like the sweetest, most understanding person who's ever been into the café. Not only did she seem to forgive me for my bad service yesterday, she even stood up to me against Rachel and specifically requested me to make her drink. She just made my day, and I don't even know her name. I've decided that she's my new favorite customer, and I hope that she comes in every day. And now I finally know what I'm hoping for.


	3. Chapter 3: Becoming A Habit

**a/n: Sorry this update took longer than the last. It was my best friend's bday this last weekend, so I was busy with best friend duties to make it awesome! Mission: accomplished. Then I worked all week. But here it is!**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please leave a comment/critique/question if you feel so inclined. Thanks ;)**

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**Chapter 3: Becoming A Habit**

The café picked up for the lunch rush, and instead of making drinks I ran back and forth from the kitchen to deliver food to tables. Every time I delivered a tray of food to waiting customers at tables and made my way back behind the counter Tina would ring the bell again, signaling another meal was ready to be taken out. Due to the hurried pace of delivering food and not getting enough sleep last night I can feel a headache coming on. On top of that, the large table in the middle of the café includes a pack of young children that keep trying to reach out and snatch fries off of the plates I'm delivering. One lady who saw a boy steal some of the fries off her plate even asked for new food. I just sighed, forced a smile on my face and told her, 'Of course.'

I could tell that Tina was upset at me for making her redo the order, but she didn't say anything mean. She just took that plate from my hands and nodded with tight lips before turning and getting back to work. I whispered 'Sorry' one last time before grabbing two more plates to deliver to customers. Plates in hand, I turned to see Rachel happily swaying as she made drinks. As I passed to go deliver the food I heard her softly singing to herself.

_Dancing through life  
Skimming the surface  
Gliding where turf is smooth  
Life's more painless  
For the brainless  
Why think too hard?  
_I can't help the small smile that forms in the corner of my mouth. Despite the bustle of the lunch rush and the crazy customers Rachel is in her own little world signing Broadway tunes. I take a moment to close my eyes and shake my head a little. It's times like this that I really like Rachel and am glad I have her as my coworker.

_When it's so soothing  
Dancing through life  
No need to tough it  
When you can sluff it off as I do  
Nothing matters  
But knowing nothing matters  
It's just life  
So keep dancing through..._

Feeling my mood pick up significantly I head towards my target table. I genuinely smile at the customers as I set down their food and ask them if I can get them anything else. They politely decline, so I turn to the empty table beside theirs and start collecting the dirty dishes left behind. With both hands full I head back to the kitchen to deposit them.

"Hey, Brittany." I snap my head behind me and see Quinn and 'the girl' looking at me. I still don't know her name, I realize.

I'm not sure which one of them spoke. I honestly forgot they were still here, losing track since the pickup in customers. I look down at my hands, full of dirty dishes, but walk over to them regardless.

"Your shoe's untied, girlie," the brunette spoke.

"Oh," I reply, "thanks." I look down and see that the laces on my left shoe are in fact undone and dangling over the sides of my shoes. Well that's an accident waiting to happen. Again, I glance at the dishes in my arms before skimming around me. There's not a good place to set them down.

"Here," the girl says, patting her lap, "Let me help." I eye her light colored pants with raised eyebrows. I don't want to get her pants dirty. Maybe I have sticky stuff on the bottom of my shoe from the kitchen floor. I look at her face, seeing her friendly smile, before hesitantly lifting my left foot to put in her lap.

"Um, how were your coffees?" I ask. I'm starting to feel a little uncomfortable with my foot in the lap of a customer, arms full and helpless.

"Absolutely delicious!" Quinn chirps in. "We're never going anywhere else for coffee." I beam at her with a delighted smile at the compliment. "I'm Quinn, by the way, and this is Santana. We're starting school at the university next week. So I'm sure we'll be coming in _all_ the time for some much-needed caffeine pick-me-ups."

"Oh, very cool," I smile and nod. I wonder if I should tell them I'm not going to school right now. After all, I am like the only person my age that _isn't_ going to the university. Rachel, Tina, and even Puck all take classes, at least part time. They might just assume I'm a student. I've always thought about it, but I've always been to busy with work and stuff. Plus I wouldn't know what to study. I'm pulled from my thoughts as I feel the last tug on my shoelaces before Santana taps my foot.

"There you go." She smiles up at me triumphantly. "Danger avoided."

"Thank you…Santana?" I look at her questionably, not wanting to mispronounce it. I've never heard the name. It's pretty, and seems very fitting for the girl sitting in front of me, though I don't know why I think that.

"Yeah, don't wear it out." She turns her head slightly sideways and gives me a smirk with a little wink. This makes me giggle a little bit at her dorkiness.

"So, Brittany," Quinn starts, pulling my attention away from Santana, "Are you from here, or are you here for school?"

"I grew up here," I reply. Pausing before adding, "In Lima."

"Perfect!" Santana interjects. "You can tell us what to do for fun around here." She smiles at me expectantly, while Quinn playfully rolls her eyes at her friend.

"Oh, well…" I scrunch my forehead in thought. No one's ever asked me this question, but I feel really important for being asked. "Let me think, there's the park, of course. I love the park." I pause to think again. "Oh, and the bowling alley is usually fun on week nights. Like there's always a lot of people." I look over at the girls to see if any of these sound entertaining to them. Santana just keeps staring at me, nodding her head. Quinn is focused on her nails, but I think she's still listening because I can see her head nod slightly as I list off more ideas.

"What about more _adult_ things?" Quinn adds innocently, staring up at me. I could tell she was trying to ask me without making me feel stupid.

"Oh," I say in slight surprise. Of course they'd want to here about 'adult' things. They're college students after all, not tweens. _The park and bowling_? I mentally chastise myself for listing the most childish ideas. "Well, um, the drive-in movie theatre is 18 and over on Friday nights." I pause to think again. "Usually there's college parties on the weekend, but you gotta pick the goods ones because some are really lame." They both chuckle at this. They're not laughing at me, I'm pretty sure. I think they think I'm funny even though I wasn't trying to be. It makes me smile though.

"Do you know how to pick the good ones versus the lame ones?" Santana asks through her quiet laughter.

"Yup." I nod my head confidently, smile glowing.

"Well then you should let us know so we don't end up at the lame ones." Quinn adds, still smiling. "Can we get your number?"

If it's possible my smile got even bigger. People never ask for my number! I look down to my apron, where I can just see my phone sticking out of my pocket. I look down at my hands full of dirty dishes. "Um," I just shrug my shoulders, unable to reach it.

"Here." Santana leans forward and grabs the phone out of my apron pocket. She takes some time to add her contact info to my phone before handing it off to Quinn who does the same. Standing here watching them I can't help but beam. I've never felt so popular in my life.

"Yeah, just let us know…" Quinn trails off as she reaches forward to put my phone back in my apron. I inch my hip towards her in assistance.

"Brittany!" I turn to see Rachel pointing to the kitchen.

"Oh! I gotta get back to work." Snapping my direction back to their table, I see that both girls have scowls aimed at Rachel. "Sorry." I apologize to the girls and start dragging my feet backwards.

"We gotta go anyway," Quinn replies as she starts to stand up, shaking her palms, telling me it's not a big deal.

"Nice chatting with you, Britt." Santana gives a little wave. "See you soon."

"Yeah, okay. Bye." I quickly turn and make my way to deposit the dishes before grabbing more plates to deliver to customers. If it's even possible, I'm in an even better mood than when I saw Rachel singing at the counter. I can noticeably feel the new bounce in my step.

xXxXx

The last couple days of work passed with no significant events. I worked long shifts both days, eagerly hoping to see my new friends. Every time the bell on the front door rang I would snap my attention to the counter. It was never them though. For the majority of my time at work Bob was the only customer in the café. So many times I pulled out my phone and started typing a text to Santana or Quinn, just to see what they were up to, because I was bored. But every time I was about to hit send I would change my mind and delete it. After all, if they wanted to talk to me they would text me. Or they would come into the café and see me.

As I head out the back of the café towards my car I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I hardly ever get texts or calls from people. I excitedly pull it out and look at the screen. I'm a little disappointed when I see Katie's name.

"_Brian wants you to stop at the store to pick up something for dinner. And beer."_

I let out an exaggerated sigh before stuffing my phone back in my pocket and walking the remaining distance to my car. I have to turn the key a couple times in the ignition before the engine finally rolls over and I'm able to head to the grocery store.

I walk into the store and grab a basket. I gaze around the store reading the titles above the aisles. I'll grab the beer last because it's too heavy to carry around while I round up dinner. _Dinner…what to get for dinner_… Last time I got mac'n'cheese, my absolute favorite meal. Brian wasn't happy with that though. He got angry and yelled for five minutes about how 'dinner' implied a healthy serving of meat. I hate getting yelled at. I remember trying my hardest not to cry, because crying in front of Brian is something you don't do. So I didn't cry until I was able to go in my room and shut my door. Even then I made sure to cry into my pillow so he couldn't hear me.

So I definitely have to get something with meat… My mind is coming up blank. Maybe if I just walk around for a minute something will catch my eye. So I wander up and down the aisles, weaving my path in no specific direction. I eventually end up in the garden section, where I run into the prettiest, most colorful display of flowers I've ever seen. There are roses and tulips, daisies and pansies, fall crocus, small blue flowers I don't know the name of, and lilies! I stop at these.

Lilies are my favorite! They are so beautiful and come in so many different shapes and colors. Not only that, but you can use them for all kinds of occasions. I remember we even had white lilies at my mom's funeral. The white flowers really stood out because every one was wearing black. The lily petals were all spread and open, and it made me feel like they wanted to give me little flower hugs to make me feel better. I think that's when they became my favorite flower.

I walk up to a collection of stargazer lilies. Putting the basket behind my back and leaning forward, I poke my nose in to get a close inhale. The sweet aroma fills my nostrils, and I close my eyes and sigh contentedly. I slowly stand up but keep my eyes closed, taking deep breaths in and out.

"Hey, stranger," the raspy voice sounds like it's inches from my neck. I jump in shock and drop my shopping basket. I swiftly spin and come face to face with a composed yet apologetic Santana. Slapping my palm to my chest I feel my heavily pounding heart. "I scared you," she says regretfully, "I didn't realize your eyes were closed. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You just startled me is all," I reply, trying to relax my breathing. She gives me a remorseful frown, and I quickly answer back with a small smile to show her that I'm actually all right.

"Apparently it's becoming a habit." The corners of her lips turn upwards once again, revealing her perfect, white-teethed smile.

"I'll get used to it eventually." I spot the shopping basket I dropped and slowly lean down to pick it back up. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Shopping with my mom," she replies with indifference. I glance around, and when I don't see anyone else I look back at her questionably. She soon catches my silent question. "Oh, yeah, I snuck away. She doesn't need my help anyway. She has her list, and I'm just in the way." She straightens her posture and crosses her arms. Face staid, she asks, "What about you? Did you come here to shop or just to smell the flowers?" At the last part of her question her serious façade crumbled and her teasing smile reappeared.

"Yeah," I look at my feet slightly embarrassed, "I'm suppose to pick up food for dinner but couldn't think of anything. I was just passing by and couldn't resist the lilies." I smile but can feel the heat rising in my face. I look at Santana just in time to see her nose scrunch up in the cutest manner. "What?" I ask.

She doesn't answer as she lifts her pointer finger towards my face. Her finger lightly brushes the tip of my nose, and I cross my eyes to try to see what she's doing. "You had some pollen on your nose." She smiles at me with the sweetest smile I've seen from her yet.

"Thanks," I whisper and look down to my feet, feeling my cheeks heat up even more.

She seemed to notice my embarrassment and quickly changed the subject. "So, dinner? You need help thinking of something?"

"Really? That'd be awesome," I respond. "I could really use help because I don't want to mess up again. Brian says there needs to be meat. I brought home mac'n'cheese once and he freaked out because he says dinner needs to have meat in it. He yelled for like five minutes and wouldn't even try my mac'n'cheese."

"What? Who is this Brian? Is he your boyfriend? 'Cause that's really rude of him to freak out after you took the time to make it and all." The look on her face is a mixture of disbelief and anger. Maybe I said something wrong.

"Oh, no," I hastily respond, "Brian is my step-dad. I don't have a boyfriend. And I just wasn't thinking. It makes sense, I guess, that dinner should have meat in it, right? I was just being stupid." She seems to relax a little but still looked at me like she didn't believe something I was saying. "I just need to get a dinner that has meat."

"Okay," she draws out the word then scrunches her nose in thought. "How about…hm…does Brian like sausage?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Does he like spicy sausage?" She amends her question.

"Yes. He loves spicy food." I nod rapidly.

Her triumphant smile returns. "I have an idea." She grabs my wrist and starts dragging me back towards the food aisles.

After just a few minutes I have a full basket, but the items in the basket don't seem to go together. I have pasta, tomatoes, chorizo, hot sauce, onions, cheese... I think I should have told Santana that I can't actually cook real meals, only ones that have box instructions. I look at her with my eyebrows raised in question.

"Spicy macaroni and cheese _with_ chorizo sausage." She answers with assurance. "It's a family favorite."

I nod my head uneasily. "It's just that I can't really cook that well. I only cook from box foods," I admit.

At this she only smiles. Not the reaction I was expecting. "It's super easy. Trust me." She stares at me with raised eyebrows until I nod back in response. Suddenly her mood shifts, and she crosses her arms at me. "I _would_ call you and talk you through it, but _someone_ never called or texted me to give me her number." She rolls her eyes at me in fake annoyance before her smile cracks through. I completely forgot that her and Quinn didn't get my number. They just put their numbers in my phone. "Was that your way of telling me that you didn't wanna hang out?" She teases as she playfully shoves my shoulder.

"Of course not," I answer. "I just forgot you didn't have my number. I was waiting for you to contact me."

"Well, let's fix that." She reaches her hand out to me, palm up. I stare at her hand, not exactly sure what she's asking. It's not until she wiggles her fingers that I realize she's silently asking for my phone. I quickly reach into my pocket and place my phone in her hand. She smiles victoriously before getting out her own phone and calling it with mine. As her screen lights up indicating the call, she triumphantly waves it in her hand. I can't help but smile at her silly behavior. "Now I can get a hold of you," she says as she hands me back my phone.

Seconds later, her phone lights up again. "Oh, hey, it's my mom. She's probably ready to leave. Do you want me to call you after I get home to help you with dinner?"

"That would be awesome," I reply, grateful that she's willing to help.

"Perfect," she smiles back at me as she starts to walk backwards. "I'll talk to you soon then." She points her phone at me before quickly answering it and turning to walk away. "Yeah, mom, I'm heading to the car," I hear her as she's walking away.

"Okay," I mumble too quiet for her to hear. She was on the phone anyway, so I didn't want to interrupt. I look down at my basket one last time. Hopefully Brian likes whatever Santana has planned out. She seems confident enough, though, so I think it'll be good. I smile at the thought of Santana calling to help me make dinner. With that, I promptly turn on my toes and bounce to the nearest checkout line.

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**Song in this chapter: "Dancing Through Life" from the Musical **_**Wicked**_


	4. Chapter 4: Special

**a/n: Here's chapter 4. A lot happens, so let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: Special**

I pull my car up to the curb in front of my house and quickly shut off the engine. Grabbing the grocery bag from the passenger seat I excitedly bounce to the front door. I can't wait to start making Santana's dinner. As I reach for the front door handle it suddenly gets pulled back, and I noticeably jump back as Katie appears.

"Hey, Katie," I recovered, "Where are you going?"

"Just to a friend's house." She pauses and smiles at me before adding, "To do homework."

"Oh, well have fun. It's too bad you're going to miss the _amazing_ dinner I'm making tonight." I drew out the word 'amazing' and rolled my eyes in exaggeration. This causes Katie to giggle at me, and I smile at her reaction.

"Save me some leftovers," she replies, still chuckling to herself a little bit, "and don't burn down the kitchen."

"That was one time, Katie. And I didn't burn down the kitchen, I just caught the oven on fire." I try to defend myself. I'm a little hurt that she brought that up, because it was so long ago and I felt so back when it happened. It was an accident, of course, but I still got scolded severely for it.

"Yeah, well just the same, be careful." She turns and starts to walk towards her car. She just recently got her license, but Brian has been building her car for years. It's old like mine, but he added new shiny parts to it. Just as she's starting to duck down into the driver's seat she pops back out of the car and shouts back at me. "Oh, and Dad's in the garage. He's kind of in a mood. Don't bother him until food is ready." She gives me one last wave before she dips all the way into the car.

I nod my head in reply to her last statement, but it's wasted because she's already gone. I turn on my heels at walk in the house. Lord Tubbington doesn't greet me at the door, so he must be sleeping on my bed. I quietly reach the kitchen and set the grocery bag on the counter before tiptoeing to the living room. Brian isn't there, and the door to his room is open and shows that it is vacant as well. He must be in the garage as Katie said. Confirming that Brian is preoccupied I skip to my room to change into more comfy clothes. Sure enough, my precious ball of fur is sprawled out on my bed, lying in a ray of sunshine that is coming in through the window. I silently slip on sweat pants and a tank top and give the sleeping Lord Tubbington a little scratch on the head before bouncing back to the kitchen. I slowly empty the contents of the grocery bag and try to arrange them on the counter in the order that I'm going to need them. I soon realize I have no idea how to make what I'm making, so I give up on trying to organize the ingredients and pull out my phone instead. Was I supposed to call Santana, or was she going to call me? I decide to just call her since I was ready and she teased me earlier about not calling or texting her. After just one ring she picks up.

"_Hello_?" The word was rushed, and she sounded very anxious, almost like I had interrupted something.

"Hi, Santana. It's me, Brittany." There was a pause on the other line. "Is it alright that I called? Should I call back later or…"

"_No!_" She cut me off, then continued, "_No, Brittany, now's perfect. Sorry, I just walked in the door. I thought I was suppose to call you, but I'm home now, so it's perfect_." She sounded like she relaxed a little bit. I could hear her take a big breath, then she let out the word, "_Hi_."

"Hi," I repeated.

"_So, are you ready to tackle your first lesson in cooking?_" She asks.

"I think so," I replied with hesitancy. "I laid out everything you picked out at the store, but I'm telling you now that I don't know how to cook, so you're going to have to break everything down." I try to warn her one last time. Others have tried to teach me things with little to no success. So, I hope she realizes what she's getting into.

"_Trust me, Britt. I've been cooking since before I could talk, and I'm a great teacher. Plus I have complete confidence in you. You'll do great_." No one had ever said that to me, much less someone I hardly knew. Hearing that she had confidence in me made my smile reach from ear to ear. Just knowing she believed in me made me feel more self-assured, and I nodded my head.

When I realized she couldn't see my confirmation I gave her an "Okay."

"_Okay_," she repeated. "_First thing's first: preheat the oven to 350 degrees_."

I walk over to the oven and turn the preheat dial to the correct temperature. "Done." I smile satisfactorily.

"_Okay, next we're gonna cook the pasta_." I wait for her to continue, but she didn't.

"H-How do I do that?" I could feel my confidence beginning to slip away from me. I've made macaroni before, but the noodles always taste really soggy, and I don't know what I do wrong.

"_Oh_," the surprise was evident in her voice, but she quickly continued. "_Okay, first get a pot, and fill it about two-thirds with water. Then put it on the stove on high to boil it_."

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear before leaning down to the cupboard to look at the pots. "For the pot, does it matter what size it is?" I ask.

"_Well how many people are you cooking for? Just you and Brian?_" She asked. I could tell she was being very patient with me, even though I felt like I was asking stupid questions.

I thought for a second. "Um, three." I said as I remembered that Katie wanted some leftovers.

"_Okay, then you'll want a medium-ish size. Anything will work, honestly_."

"Okay." I grabbed the medium size pot and put it under the faucet. "You said two-thirds full, right?" I asked.

"_Yeah, about. It doesn't have to be exact_." I felt better about that.

After I place the pot of water over the stove I step back to look at it. "Do I add the noodles now?" I could hear her soft giggle on the other side of the phone, causing my face to heat up slightly. "Sorry, that was a dumb question. I can–… I-, I just never can make them right. I wanna do it right so they're not soggy," I admit sheepishly.

"_No, sorry, that wasn't a dumb question. It was cute. Sorry for laughing._" I could tell that she was still trying to hold back her laughing a little bit, but it didn't feel like she was laughing at me. I think she was truly just a little surprised at my question. I still felt a little embarrassed though. "_So, to cook noodles you should wait for the water to boil before you add the noodles._ _That will help so they don't get soggy. Then you remove them from the heat just a little bit before they feel ready, but not too early._" That sounded really complicated, so I didn't say anything back. She seemed to pick up on my confusion because she added, "_I'll tell you when they should be ready, don't worry. And after doing it a couple times you'll get it down. It just takes some practice_." I nodded and felt myself relax a little more. Santana knew what she was doing, and she was being really patient and nice in trying to help me learn. Maybe I could ask her to cook with me sometime, like in person and not just on the phone. I'm sure if I practice with her I can learn a lot.

While waiting for the water to boil, Santana instructs me in cutting up the tomatoes and onions. During that time she started asking me questions to get to know me better. I think she could tell that I was nervous about cooking and wanted to help get my mind off of it. And whenever it was time to do something else in the cooking process, we would pause our conversation, and she would slowly and patiently break down the directions for the next step in the recipe before asking me more questions about myself. I was really glad she did, because it was fun to talk to her and thinking of my answers totally took my mind off of being nervous about cooking.

She asked about what it was like growing up in Lima, and I told her all about the park and the ducks, and how we usually get snow in the winter. I even told her about the snowman that Katie and I made when we were little and how it lasted for like a whole month because it was so cold that year. I then had to tell her who Katie was. I told Santana how pretty and smart Katie was and that she was a really good sister who had lots of friends and did really well in school. She asked if I had any pets, and I spent ten minutes telling her any and all stories I could think of about Lord Tubbington. She laughed when I described him and said that she would put him on a diet if he were her pet. When I told her that he was on Atkins she laughed really hard again. It made me smile how much she was laughing and seemed to be enjoying my stories. She even asked about working at the café, and I told her how the cash register frustrated me but I loved making the coffee drinks, especially when I got to put whip cream on them.

At this point in cooking I'm finally pouring the pasta and cheese sauce mix into the baking pan. I add the chorizo and roasted tomatoes and onions before carefully placing the pan in the oven. After following Santana's directions to set the timer for a half hour, I step away from the oven and lean up against the kitchen counter. "Done." I chirped with a quick nod into the phone. She continued to ask me simple questions, like my favorite color, food, and vacation.

When she finally asked if I went to the university, I was a little tentative, or maybe embarrassed, to answer her. "Well, um, no. I don't go to school. I was never really good at school. Like tests are hard for me cause I just don't understand school. I'm not smart like Katie. Plus I wouldn't even know what to study."

She was quick to respond. "_Don't say that about yourself. You're plenty smart. Tests are just directed to the learning styles of certain types of students. It's not entirely fair to students who learn in different ways._"

"Hm." I never thought about different learning types. I learn pretty well if someone just takes the time and patience to walk me through it, just like Santana was walking me through cooking. I could hear her sigh in what sounded like frustration. I wonder what she was frustrated about.

I forgot about it as she continued,_ "If we went to school together I totally would've helped you study. I would've made it my mission to teach you in a way you could understand._" Even though it was a completely theoretical statement I couldn't help but picture us being friends in high school, sitting next to each other in class, studying together at each other's houses. The hypothetical images made me smile. I wish we went to high school together… "_And I bet if you went to college you could find something you're good at that you'd enjoy studying. And even if we weren't in the same classes I'd try to help you if I could._" Again her belief in me was surprising, especially since we hardly knew each other, but I couldn't help but beam at her statement. I'm sure my cheeks were also pink, because my face felt super warm. Santana was the nicest, sweetest person I ever met, and I just met her today. "_You still there, Britt?_" It took me a second to realize she was talking to me.

"You're really sweet and nice, Santana, like nicer than anyone else I know." I didn't mean to say it out loud, and I probably should have been embarrassed that the words just fell out of my mouth, but I was also kind of glad that I told her because I wanted her to know that she made me feel special. I stopped what I was doing and listened into the phone for her response.

"_Thanks_," she finally said in a soft voice, but I could tell that she was smiling too. "_You're easy to be nice to._" She paused again before adding,"_I'm glad I'm getting to know you._"

I didn't think my smile could get any larger, but I'm pretty sure it did because my face hurt due to the bigness of my grin. "Me too." I added.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ I look over to the over and see the blinking display on the clock.

"Yay, it's done!" I squeal into the phone as I skip over to the oven.

"_Don't forget the hot mitts!" _Santana reminds me. I'm glad she did, because I was so excited about the food I wasn't even thinking about getting burnt. After slipping on the oven mitts I carefully take the pan out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. I close my eyes and let the fresh, delicious scent waft up to my nose.

"Mm. Smells delicious!"

"_How's it look? The cheese on top should be just a little golden brown_," Santana instructs. I notice that the cheese is just as she described.

"It looks perfect!" I smile in disbelief. Wow, I can't believe we did it. "Thank you so much, Santana! I cooked, like for real! This is so cool!" By this point I'm gripping the phone with both hands and am bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet.

I can hear her giggle through the phone. "_You're welcome, and it was my pleasure. I hope you guys enjoy it_."

"Oh, it's perfect! I can't wait to try it!" Just as I finish talking I can hear the door from the garage opening, and I know Brian is coming in for dinner. "Oh, hey, Santana? Brian just stepped in. He's probably starving. Can I call you back later?"

"_Yeah, yeah. No worries_," she rushes out, "_Enjoy it! And tell me how it is, how Brian likes it. He's crazy if he doesn't._" She's still laughing a little, and I join her. "_And yeah, I'll be home. Call whenever. I wanna hear!_"

"Sweet. Good. Okay, I will. Bye." The words rush out of my mouth in hushed whispers. I can hear Brian's loud steps coming towards the kitchen from the hallway. As much as I'd love to keep talking to Santana on the phone, I know I'll talk to her later. But right now I really want to see the look on Brian's face when he sees the home cooked meal I've prepared…with Santana's help.

"'_K, bye_." I hear her whisper back, followed by the click of the phone. With that, I stuff my phone into my sweatpants pocket and turn to greet Brian.

As he comes into view he seems a little disoriented, like he wasn't expecting me to be standing there waiting for him. I just smile at him in response. He's covered in grease from whatever project he was working on in the garage. He looks at me questionably, and then looks around the kitchen as he approaches the sink to wash his hands. After glancing at his hands under the water, and back at me, then back to the water, he finally speaks in a low, gruff voice. "What's with the dopey grin?"

My smile falters, but just for a second. I quickly recover and take a step closer to him, hands interlaced behind my back. "I made dinner. I think you'll really like it." I hold my smile at him.

I take another step towards the sink and raise my eyebrows in anticipation. He looks to me briefly before scanning the kitchen once again. After his eyes finally catch the pan on the stove he looks down again to his hands under the faucet. "I thought I told you pasta doesn't count as dinner. It's not meat."

I'm quick to take a step towards the pan this time. I raise my pointer into the air in defense and cheerfully reply, "But wait, there _is_ meat." He looks at me with reservation. "You see, there's chorizo in here. _Spicy_ chorizo. That's meat. And you love spicy. And it's suppose to be really good." I freeze and anticipate his response with apprehension. He seems to be thinking about it for a few long seconds before he lets out a sigh.

"Well fine. Dish me up a plate," he mumbles as he slaps off the faucet. My smile recovers, and I immediately reach for a plate and serving utensil. "I'll be watching TV," he adds, and I hear his footsteps walking away.

I take extra care to scoop him out a big, tasty-looking portion, making sure to get plenty of chorizo chunks on the plate. I try to rearrange the food on the plate so it looks super fancy and nice, but no matter where I move it around the plate it looks the same. I remember to grab a fork and paper towel square before I carefully walk the plate to the living room.

Brian barely glances up before grabbing the plate and training his eyes back on the TV. I take a step back and fasten my hands together, eagerly waiting for him to try his first bite. After a few seconds he seems to notice me standing there and looks at me with an annoyed glare. "What are you doing? Stop staring at me eating. Get me something to drink or something."

I don't hesitate and actually half jog to the kitchen. Some people don't like an audience while they're eating. That's understandable. Plus I think in his mind Brian doesn't _want_ to like the pasta, but I think he will once he tastes the chorizo in it. When I was little, my mom made zucchini bread, but because I hated zucchini I refused to even take a bite. I even threw a fit all over the kitchen. But when she finally convinced me to just take a tiny taste I actually really liked it even though I didn't _want_ to like it. But it didn't taste like zucchini at all. It was actually really yummy and sweet. Now I know I like zucchini bread so I don't even pretend I don't like it anymore.

I open the fridge and peer inside for a few seconds before finally reaching in and grabbing the milk carton. I know Brian doesn't usually drink milk for dinner, but milk goes really well with spicy foods. I fill a glass a little too full and put the milk away before carefully walking back out to the living room, taking extra caution not to spill any milk on the carpet. I slowly lower the glass and set it on a coaster on the side table by Brian's recliner. Peeking over at the plate in his lap I notice that he's taken several large bites out of his food. The corners of my lips slowly lift into a grin and I leisurely stand back up and take a step back from his chair.

"So, how is it?" I ask hopefully.

"Not bad." He answers while keeping his gaze locked on the TV. "I was expecting worse," he adds.

My shoulders noticeably relax, and I throw a small fist pump into the air for the victory. I can't wait to tell Santana that her dinner was a hit. Maybe she can help me come up with other foods that Brain would like. And maybe she'll even talk me through the recipe on the phone again; only I can ask _her_ questions next time. Oh, or maybe she could just come over and we could actually cook it together. Then after dinner we could go to a movie or go bowling or something. At this thought I beam hopefully. That would be so much fun. When I call Santana tonight I should remember ask her if she wants to come over to cook with me.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I see movement coming from my peripheral vision. While still staring at the TV, Brian blindly reaches for his milk glass. When his fingers finally clamp around the glass he looks at it in confusion. "What the hell, Brittany?" He stares at the milk glass before snapping his attention to me. What did I do? Was the milk was bad? I forgot the check the expiration date on the milk carton, but I was pretty sure it was still good since we bought it last weekend.

"What?" I nervously question.

"What do you mean, 'What'? Where's my beer? I told you to get beer." He voice increases in volume.

_Crap_. Realization dawns on me as I remember Katie's text. She specifically said to get beer, and I decided I would grab it at the end so I wouldn't have to carry it the whole time. Only I forgot the get it after Santana helped me with my shopping. "I- um, I forgot." My eyes wander to stare at my feet, and I once again squeeze my hands together in worry.

"Godammit, Brittany!" He slams the milk glass onto the side table, and I jump at the clash. I can hear my heart start to pound against my ribcage. I look up enough to see that the once full glass is half empty, and milk is splattered all over the side table, Brian's arm, and the carpet. I snap my eyes back to my feet and take a hesitant step backwards.

"I- I'm sorry." I stutter out. "I meant to grab it, bu-…" Brian cuts me off before I can finish.

"…but you're an idiot! Who can't do anything right!" I pinch my lips together and take another step back, but my back hits the wall. I can feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes and I shake my head and will them not to fall. My hands are squeezed so tightly together that through my teary vision I can see my white fingertips. I don't relax my grip, though, because I think it's helping to keep my tears in. "Just…I can't even look at you right now! Get out of my sight!"

I don't wait for him to change his mind and call me back to yell at me some more. I make a dash down the hall, grabbing my keys off the landing before bolting out of the front door. I run to my car and use shaking hands to unlock the door. When I finally get it open I scramble to get in and shut the door and push down on the lock. I can feel the tears streaming down my cheeks now, but I don't even remember when I finally allowed them to fall. I don't care at this point, though. I just care about getting away from here. I fumble with the keys again before I finally jam the correct one into the ignition. When I finally turn the key I hear the cranking sounds, but the engine won't turn over. "Come on…please." I whisper through frustrated tears. I turn the key again, but I just hear more chugging and rattling. After a few more tries I realize it's not going to start.

The tears double their efforts in falling, and I can barely see through the haze. Without another thought, I throw the door open and start running. I don't know where I'm heading, and at this point I don't really care. I just need to get away.

I'm glad it's late enough that no cars are driving by, because a hysterical girl running blindly down the street is not something people want to deal with, nor do I want to deal with anyone when I'm like this. I don't know how long it's been when I finally have to stop running. My chest is heaving and I bend down to rest my hands on my knees. My crying has stopped, but I think it's because the tears ran out. I still feel like crying, but I think my body needs time to make more tears. I stand up again and regret it instantly as a hammering headache attacks. I force my palms into my itchy eyes and try to rub the hurt away.

I pull my palms away from my puffy eyes and immediately recognize where I am. No one else is at the park this late, and again I'm thankful for that. I don't really know how late it is, but the sun is just now starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the park pond. My whole body aches from the exertion of crying and running, but I force myself forward until I reach my destination. Finally reaching my bench, I allow myself to collapse onto it. With my eyes closed my hand instinctively reaches for the carving I've memorized in my mind. My chest is still rising and falling with force, but I feel a slight calmness begin to take over me as I rub my fingers back and forth over the indentations in the bench. I focus on my breathing and will myself to slow it down, taking slow, deep breaths.

After several moments I can feel my heartbeat settle and my breathing regulate. The only sound I can hear is the occasional sniffle that escapes without warning. My body feels drained and exhausted, I realize, as I slump my shoulders forward. A chilly breeze starts to pick up, causing goose bumps to cover my arms. I wonder if the sun has set already. When I finally open my eyes I see that the sun has, in fact, completed its descent.

I let out a deep sigh and shake my head. Things had not gone the way I planned. I wanted Brian to love the dinner I made for him, but instead I ruined it by forgetting his beer at the store. _Ugh, why couldn't I just remember the stupid beer!_ I close my eyes and hit my forehead with the palm of my hand, immediately regretting it as I feel the pounding headache return. I feel the breeze again and shiver against the cold. I notice I'm still in a tank top and forgot to grab a jacket during my rush out the door. Not being able to change that now, I pull my knees up to my torso and tuck my arms between my legs and my chest, trying to keep warm. I turn my head and rest my ear on my knees before I close my eyes again.

I don't know how long it's been before I'm startled by a buzzing in my pocket. I jump at the feeling and quickly reach into my pocket to pull out my vibrating phone. I forgot that I had it with me. I blink a couple times trying to focus on the bright light as it illuminates the caller's name. _Santana_. I forgot to call her back. She wants to know how Brian liked the dinner. I don't even know where I would begin to describe my evening, and I don't feel like talking to anyone either. Also, I'm still holding back sniffles, so I decide to let it go to voicemail. When the phone displays '_1 Missed Call_' I also notice that I have a missed text. I open it and see that it is from Santana, but it was sent almost an hour ago. I must have gotten it when I was running and didn't feel the vibration. I click it open.

_Hey girlie, how was dinner? :) –S_

I close my phone and place it in my lap. It makes me feel a little better that she texted and called me, like she really wants to know how it went. I just don't know what to tell her. Dinner was awful, but Brian _did_ actually seem to enjoy the food she picked out. Maybe I could just tell her that Brian liked the food. That wouldn't be lying, because I know he did. I don't think I could sound normal on the phone though, so I can't call her back. I decide to reply to her text instead. I reopen my phone and start to open her message again when my phone buzzes again, indicating a new voicemail. I abandon writing my text and hit the button to play the message, pulling the speaker up to my ear.

"_Hey Britt, it's Santana. I'm just calling to see how the dinner went. It's been like two and a half hours, so I'm _assuming_ you're all done eating. I'd actually be shocked and maybe a little disgusted if you're _actually_ still eating after all this time_." Her voice was so light and cheery. It felt like the complete opposite of what I was feeling at the moment. I'm kind of glad I didn't answer the phone._ "So, yeah… I was also kind of bored, so I just wanted to see what you're up to. I had fun talking on the phone earlier. Like I don't think I've laughed that hard in forever… You're pretty funny_." I could hear her laugh a little to herself during the message. "_Well anyway, call me back if you want. Unless you're avoiding me again_." She was teasing again, and even though I was still sniffling from crying my eyes out earlier, I couldn't help but smile at her message. It was actually starting to make me feel better. "_…okay, I'm rambling now._" I think I missed a chunk of her message, but I'm pretty sure it was more playful teasing. "_Well if I don't hear from you, have a good night. But you better be working tomorrow 'cause imma want my coffee, and there is no way I'm letting that dwarf of a girl make my drink_. _'K, bye, Britt._"

I closed my phone and set it in my lap again. When a moment ago I was so overwhelmed and exhausted that I was waiting for my body to make more tears so I could cry some more, I now feel like my sadness has lifted. I feel so light, maybe even a little light-headed, but not in a bad way. Even though Santana didn't know I had a bad night, her message made me feel like she knew exactly what happened and was trying to cheer me up. Instead, she cheered me up without even realizing I needed cheering up.

I kind of feel like crying again, but not because I'm sad. I don't really know _why_ I want to cry. I think it's because Santana was so nice to me today. She stood up to Rachel for me at work, and she tied my shoe. At the store she was super playful and funny, and she helped me pick out a yummy meal and even helped me get all the groceries for it. Then she was sweet and patient on the phone when she was teaching me to cook, and asked me questions to make me feel less nervous. And now she left me a super fun message and knew just how to make me feel better without even knowing that I was sad. I've never had a friend that did so much for me in one day. Plus I don't even know if I can consider Santana a friend yet since I was just introduced to her today.

Regardless, I feel happy, and it's because Santana made me feel so special today. I pull up her text message again and type out my message:

_Thanks for making me feel special today… –B_

I hit send. I realize I didn't really answer her question about dinner. And I didn't really respond to any part of her voicemail, but it's all I could think to tell her right now. I really wanted her to know that though, even if it didn't make that much sense to her.

I sat there for a few more minutes. I kind of expected her to text me back asking about dinner again or to ask how she made me feel special, but she never did. Looking down at my phone again I see that it's almost midnight, and I have to work in the morning. I slowly drag myself up from the bench and wrap my arms around my body as I start to walk towards home. I enter my dark house, thankful that Brian is already in bed. When I finally reach my room and collapse on the bed I think I'll fall asleep within seconds. Just as I feel myself start to drift my phone buzzes in my hand, stirring me awake. I click it open to see a message from Santana.

_You're a special girl, Britt –S_

A small smile escapes my lips, and I close my eyes and surrender to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5: Answers

**A/n: Sorry this took longer than I said it would. I was originally planning to add the next scene in with this chapter, but I haven't quite figured out how I want to end it. Plus I feel like the significance in this part would be lost if I made it one big chapter. That's to say that I'm already well into writing the next chapter, and it's going to be a fun one. **

**As always I appreciate reviews, or find me on tumblr (chickpeahearts11 .tumblr .com). Thanks for reading! =)**

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**Chapter 5: Answers**

"Brittany." Someone is calling my name, but I don't know who it is. It sounds like I'm underwater, and the person is standing on the shore.

"Hey, Brittany." The voice is a little clearer now, but still far away. I think I'll try to open my eyes. They're just so heavy…

"Brittany!" Suddenly the voice is right over me, and it's so clear and sharp that my eyes snap open at the sound.

I regret it immediately as I'm blinded by a stream of morning sunlight coming in through my window.

"Ugh." I roll my face to the other side and force my eyes open again. They feel so heavy and swollen. I hope they don't look as puffy as they feel. I reach my hands up to rub my eyes, but stop short when I realize I'm still clutching my open phone in my hand. I push a button to illuminate the screen, and a sleepy yet goofy grin appears when I see Santana's message from last night still on the screen.

"Earth to Brittany." I now easily recognize my sister's voice and flop over onto my back to look up at her. I raise my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. She is looking at me like she is waiting to tell me something.

"Hi, sorry. I'm up." I rub my eyes and sit up a little bit so she knows I'm paying attention to her and won't fall back asleep.

"You look like death. Are you hung over?" It's definitely not was I was expecting her to ask, and by the look on her face I think she wasn't expecting to ask that either.

"Um, no. I, ah, I went for a run and got back late." I didn't want Katie to know that I was crying because I did something to upset Brian, and technically I _did_ go for a run last night.

"Oh, okay. Random." I guess it was a little odd that I went for a run, but she seemed to believe me. "Well, I came in to tell you that you can't leave food out on the counter. You just left the whole pan out. Plus you didn't clean up whatever you spilled in the living room. The carpet was all wet when I got home last night."

_Crap_. The milk. I didn't want to tell her that it was actually Brian that spilled the milk, because I didn't want Katie to know I made Brian mad by forgetting the beer at the store. And I didn't even think about the food when I ran out of the house last night. I just wanted to get away from the house as soon as possible before my tears avalanched down my face. In hindsight I guess it would've been smarter to just go to my room… No, it was good for me to leave the house. I needed the fresh air, and if I would've been in my room I couldn't have cried as much because I would be afraid to be too loud. And it's bad to hold in your cries when you need to cry, because if you don't let it out when it needs to come out then it will come out at a time when it's not appropriate to come out.

I realize I hadn't responded yet, so I let slip a "Sorry." It came out in a small, weak voice, which I didn't intend. I wasn't the victim here; I was the one that did something wrong.

"I mean…I put it away, so the leftovers are still good. And I cleaned up the spill…but really, Brittany, I'm getting tired of always picking up after you." She was looking right at me when she said this, and it was making me feel so small and stupid. She was my little sister, and here she was taking care of me and fixing the stupid things I did. I let my eyes fall to my lap and watched my fingers pick the fuzz off my blanket.

"I'm sorry, Katie. I completely forgot. I just got busy. I forgot…I'm sorry." I knew it wasn't a good excuse, because there was no good excuse. I should have remembered. I peek up from the blanket in time to see Katie roll her eyes and sigh. Her features had softened. She never stayed mad at me for very long.

"It's fine, just…" she paused and let out another big sigh, "Just try to remember next time. Please." She stared at me with her eyes pleading.

"I promise." I stared back, trying to tell her with my eyes as well as my words that I really would try to do better. She seemed to catch on and nodded in confirmation before giving me a small smile.

"Good," she said, bending down to pick up a blanket that fell off my bed. She tossed it in my lap. "Now get up, you dork. You have work soon." Oh yeah_. _I work a double shift today, but I get a decent length break between my shifts. Plus Santana said she was coming in to get a coffee. The thought of that automatically makes my smile grow.

"You're smiling like a fool there, Brittany," Katie said with a giggle. Right away I knew things were okay between us. Katie wouldn't be teasing me if she was still mad. All was forgiven.

I push the blankets away from my lap and force myself to get up from my bed then stretch my fingertips to the ceiling. Katie leans forward and pokes her pointer finger into my defenseless stomach. I squeal in response and scrunch myself into a ball to protect my ticklish torso. She quickly steps behind me and pins me by pinching my hips with her legs, then she continues to poke my sides. I try to force her off my back but she's too strong. When did my little sister get so strong? We're both giggling at this point and I'm still squealing. When she finally relents and steps away from me we're both panting, and I'm clutching my painful sides.

"Now get ready for work before you're late," she says in a fake bossy voice, one hand pointing at me while the other hand is on her hip.

"Alright, alright…" I hold my hands up in defense and hurry to get myself up from the floor before she decides to attack again. She gives me one last big smile before turning and waving to me over her shoulder.

"Have a good day, sis." She walks out the door towards her own room.

"You too!" I yell back just before she shuts her door. After a few seconds I realize I'm just standing at the foot of my bed, still smiling like a fool. This makes me laugh at myself, and I shake my head and turn to my dresser to get ready for work.

xXxXx

I glance at the clock behind the espresso maker. My first shift has got to be almost over. I've been working nonstop for several hours now. Plus the café has been super busy since it's the Saturday before school starts, and all the students' families are helping them move into dorms. Santana never showed up. She must have gotten busy or forgotten, which is fine because we just met and she didn't promise or anything. Still I can't help feel disappointed. I was really looking forward to seeing her. When I realize I'm still staring at the clock and am not any closer to knowing the time, I turn my attention back to the espresso maker. Out of the corner of my eye I see Rachel thanking a customer and giving him change. When he turns away I quickly ask before the next customer steps up.

"Hey, Rachel. Do you know when my break is?"

She takes a swift glance at the clock and replies, "You have a couple of minutes remaining, Brittany. Tina should be here any minute to replace you, then you will be free to take your break." She wastes no more time and is immediately back to helping the next customer in line.

Not even a minute later Tina appears and relieves me of my post. I take a last, lingering look at the line, hoping to see Santana. When I don't see anyone I recognize I sigh and head to the back. I don't know why I'm so disappointed that she didn't show. Maybe it's because she said she would but didn't. It is understandable, though, because I bet she is busy getting things ready for school on Monday. It's just, maybe this is stupid, but I kind of thought that maybe we could spend my break together and talk like we did on the phone while I was making food. Only this time I could ask her the questions so I could learn about her…

I wander into the dish room, hoping to find Puck. I want to spend my break with someone, because suddenly I feel really lonely. As expected, Puck is there texting on his phone.

"Hey," I speak up to get his attention. He snaps his head up from his phone to greet me.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Concern is evident on his face. I didn't realize my disappointment in not seeing Santana was that obvious.

"Oh, it's nothing. A friend was going to visit me at work today, but I think she forgot." It wasn't entirely true, but I didn't know how else to describe why I was a little sad. I shrug my shoulders. "It's okay, though." I glance up at him, and he's looking at me with a questioning look. I think he was trying to figure out if I was really okay. I give him a little smile to help convince him. This seems to work, and he returns the smile before slipping his phone back into his jean pocket and returning to washing the dishes.

"Well, I have just the thing to make you forget about your loser friend." I flinch a little at his comment, but he doesn't notice. Just because she forgot or got busy or whatever doesn't mean she's a loser. Puck just continues talking. "The Puckster is throwing the biggest, baddest party tonight to kick off the new school year, and _you_, my friend, are my guest of honor… And by 'guest of honor' I mean I won't make you bring your own drinks. You can have whatever you want from my stash." He gives me a wink then pauses from his dishwashing to gauge my reaction. I don't particularly feel like I'm in a party mood, but the prospect of dancing and having some drinks wins me over. My lips pull into a smile, and I nod at him.

"Excellent," he says with excitement. "Invite whoever. It's gonna be at my house. My mom is out of town visiting family. It's gonna be awesome!"

"Sweet, I can't wait," I tell him. Just hearing how excited Puck is about the party makes me more excited to go.

"There you are," Tina's worried voice makes Puck and I both turn to the door. "Could you come out to the front please, Brittany? There's a girl here that's asking for you. She says only you know how to make it right, and Rachel is freaking out. It's just-… Could you just please come and make a drink? I know it's your break, but-," I didn't need to hear more.

"Coming," I cut her off as I hastily made my way past Tina towards the front of the café. There was only one person who would be specifically asking for me at work, and I can't help but feel giddy as I approach the café. As I round the corner I hear arguing.

"…just try it. She's on her break. And I make it the _exact_ same way as her. Probably _better_," Rachel pleaded, holding a cup out to Santana.

"Listen, Yentl. Your sign says, 'Satisfaction guaranteed,' and I'm not going to be satisfied until I get my coffee _just _the way I like it. And that means that Brittany makes it." The expression on Santana's face is a mixture of defiance and amusement. Meanwhile Rachel has the odd combination of determination and agitation. I decide to step in before Rachel exploded. Sometimes Rachel can get a little carried away.

"It's okay, Rachel. I can make it." Both girls turn towards me. Rachel with a look of disbelief, and Santana with a beaming, cheeky grin.

"I…This is ridic-…I can't even…," Rachel is too upset to say what she wanted, and I am sure she'll scold me later about undermining her authority in front of a customer. I don't care, though. I am just happy that Santana kept her word to see me at work and specifically asked for me. Rachel is still staring at me in disbelief, so I decide to help her out.

"The customer is always right, Rachel." I couldn't help myself. Now I am going to get scolded for sure. But the surprised and proud look on Santana's face makes me feel like it will be worth it. Rachel lets out an exasperated, dramatic sigh before throwing her arms in the air and storming into the back.

I watch Rachel's retreating figure until she's out of view. When I look back at Santana, I can tell she's been staring at me.

"Good morning, Britt." She's wearing a guilty smile. Like a toddler who knows she's done something wrong but hopes her parents will think she's cute enough not to be punished. I roll my eyes at her, but I'm sure she can tell I'm teasing because I'm still smiling.

"You've got to start being nicer to Rachel. She's not that bad…" I raise my eyebrows at her.

"I promise." She makes a cross pattern over her heart with her finger. "I'll leave her a significant tip." I give her a stern look, and she nods her head rapidly. "I will."

"Okay." I can't help but return the smile to my face. Santana can be such a goofball. "Do you want your regular?" I reach for a cup but don't bother to write on it.

"Sounds great," she replies. She steps up close to the counter and rests her elbows on the railing so she can peer down and watch me make her coffee. It makes me a little nervous that she's watching me. Like what if I make a mistake? But when I look up at her, she has the sweetest, most fascinated smile. She is making me feel like I have the most interesting job in the world. "So, everything okay? I was a little worried about you last night. Something seemed off." I snapped my eyes back to her face then back down to my task. In the brief glimpse I took, I saw that her face had changed from a few seconds ago. It surprised me how quickly she was able to change her smile into a look of concern.

"Yeah, sorry…" I search my brain for the right words. Should I tell her that Brian got mad and slammed his milk glass and made me cry? I _literally_ cried over spilt milk! Well, that was only because I was stupid and forgot the beer. But he did like the food… Well, he said he was expecting worse. But that's a compliment coming from Brian…

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get so personal." Her words were rushed and nervous. "You don't have to tell me. I was just worried is all." I guess I was taking a long time to answer. But I didn't want Santana to feel like I was trying to keep a secret from her. But I also didn't want her to be all worried about me for something that was my fault to begin win. Santana started backing away from the counter. She took a couple steps in reverse, and I immediately wanted her back close again. I suddenly felt really lonely again.

"No, no." I ushered her nearer with my hand. "It's not that. I was just trying to decide how to say it." She slowly took the couple steps back to the counter and put her crossed arms back on the railing. "There was just some family drama. I did something really stupid, and Brian kinda yelled at me." Santana's forehead wrinkles in concern, and her bottom lip pouts out. It is actually a cute little face, but I don't like that it was in worry for me. So I add, "But I fully deserved it." She narrows her eyes at me. I think she is trying to decide if I am telling the truth. "He liked the food though." I try to give her an encouraging smile, but she keeps staring at me inquisitively. "What?" I finally ask her.

She doesn't answer for a long time. In fact, I am done making her coffee and she still hasn't responded. So I walk around the coffee and head towards an empty table, knowing she will follow me. I set her coffee on the table in front of an empty chair then sit in the opposite empty chair. She slumps down in her chair and wraps both hands around her cup, still staring at me. I am starting to get a little nervous that she isn't saying anything. I try to rewind our conversation and replay it in my head. I don't think anything came out wrong…

Her exasperated sigh brings me back from my thoughts. I look up at her to see a new determination in her eyes. "What exactly did you do that you think was stupid?" She finally asks me. I don't really understand where she's going with this question, but I answer.

"I forgot to get Brian's beer at the store."

She is quick to respond. "That's not stupid, Brittany. Everyone forgets things sometimes. And why doesn't Brian get his own damn beer?"

"Um…I don't know. I was out, I guess…?" I can feel my heart start beating faster. This kind of felt like an interview, but I don't know if I was the one being blamed or a witness. I don't know Santana enough to know these things yet.

"Well, Brian just seems like a dick. You make him a nice, homemade meal and he freaks out over beer?" I can tell that Santana is getting mad. And I _think_ it was just mad at Brian, not at me. This makes me feel a little less nervous, but I'm still on edge in my chair. "What did your mom say? _She_ should have yelled at _him_!"

I pause to let her cool down for a few seconds before answering. "I don't have a mom. I mean, I did. She died when I was thirteen." The anger drains from Santana's face. She now wears a mixture of shock and sympathy on her face. Maybe a little bit of guilt too. But she shouldn't feel guilty. It was a long time ago, and there's no way she would've known not to mention it. "It's okay, Santana. That was a long time ago." She doesn't say anything, but I can tell she's thinking really hard.

"Let me get this straight. You live with your step-dad and your half sister?" I didn't like when people called Katie my half sister, because we grew up together like real sisters, and I didn't even know my real dad. I didn't say this, though. I just nod. "And how long has he been around?"

"H-," I try to speak but my voice gets caught in my throat. So I swallow and try again. "He married my mom when I was three."

"And you call him 'Brian,' not 'Dad.'" It wasn't a question, but I nod again.

Santana opens her mouth to say something else, but then closes it again. She spends several moments just thinking, staring at her coffee cup. I can picture the wheels and the little cogs turning in her head, and I can see the confusion and determination on her furrowed face. I don't want her to be thinking so hard, and I don't understand what she could possibly be thinking so hard on. Without hesitation I reach across the small table and gently run my finger across her brow, straightening out the wrinkles. She immediately looks up at me. Her face is suddenly softer now. The anger and agitation is gone, and she is looking at me with the most perplexed, yet tender gaze I have ever received. Her warm, brown eyes stare at me. Not at me, through me. Like she is trying to find answers in my brain through my eyes. I don't know what she is looking for, but I keep my eyes focused on her, hoping that she will be able to find her answers. I don't know how many seconds pass by until she speaks again.

"You really are something special, Britt." The corners of her lips rise ever so slightly, but it feels like the most sincere smile. She suddenly appears to have it all figured out. Like she has learned all the answers from my eyes and now knows all the secrets I didn't even know I had. Whatever she found out, she seemed to come to the conclusion that I am special. And I think that she wants to be my friend. I've never felt so accepted in my life. I don't even know what to say. I know I'm smiling, but I think it probably looks bashful, since I can feel the heat burning my cheeks. I look down at my hands to try to hide my blushing face. After a few moments I speak again.  
"We're like friends, right?" I don't know why I asked, but it's been something I have wanted to know the answer of since we met at the grocery store. I chance a peeking glance at her, not lifting my face entirely from my hands.

She is smiling at me with her beaming smile now. "I have never met anyone like you, Britt… I know we just met, but I'd like to be your friend." I slowly nod at her.

"Cool," I reply with a couple more head nods. And my smile suddenly gets really big and dorky again.

Santana finally raises her drink to her mouth and takes a sip. As she's lowering the cup she groans, "Mm. Soooo good."

"I'm glad you like it," I say with amusement.

"Oh, I need to pay you still!" She snaps her attention from the coffee and starts digging through her purse.

"Hey, no! It's on the house." She looks at me questionably before rummaging through her purse again. I lean forward and place my hand on her arms to still her movements. Where my finger touches her warm skin I can feel small tingles. Like little shocks, but not painful. She looks up at me again, and I focus my gaze on her enchanting, chocolate eyes. "Really, I insist. Think of it as a 'thank you' for all your help yesterday." I smile at her with sincerity. I don't take my hand off her arms until she finally pulls her hands out of her purse.

"You do realize I've never paid for a coffee at this café?" She chuckles.

"Think of it as a friend discount," I retort. Then I suddenly remember about Puck's party.

"Oh!" Santana jumps at my sudden exclamation. "Remember how you and your friend, Quinn, wanted to know about the cool parties?"

"Yeah…," she draws out the word like she is asking a question.

"Well I have one for you. Tonight. My friend, Puck, is hosting." I know I'm talking fast, but it's because I'm so excited that I have a friend, maybe two friends, to invite to Puck's party. I've never _ever_ gone to a party with friends that I had invited. The prospect of that makes me bounce up and down in my seat a little.

Santana only needs a second to think about it. "I'm in. Sounds like fun." She also looks genuinely excited, and that makes me happy. "Do you have the address?"

I pull out my phone and scroll to Puck's contact information. Puck put his address in my phone years ago, when we were in high school together, in case I ever wanted to invite random people to his parties. Today's the first time I have ever used it.

"Okay, I texted you and Quinn the address and the time." A second later I hear her phone vibrate in her purse.

"Perfect! I'm really excited. I'll call Quinn and ask if she's coming."

"Brittany?" Rachel's voice resounds over the low murmur of the lunch crowd. I turn to see her leaning against the counter in my direction. "Your allotted break time is over, Brittany. It's time for you to return to work." I nod before turning my attention back to Santana. She's scowling with a pout in Rachel's direction, and I can't help but think she looks adorable.

"I gotta get back to work," I say as I slowly stand up and take a step away from the table. "But I'll see you tonight?" I know she already said she was coming, but I want to hear her say it again.

"Of course, I'll text you when I'm leaving my house." She stands too and collects her purse and coffee cup.

"Yay, cool!" I know I probably sound extremely dorky, but I don't care. "Okay, see you later, Santana." I give a little wave and take tiny, scooting steps backwards.

"Bye, Britt. And thanks for the coffee."

I turn towards the counter and skip behind it. I'm beaming with joy. Not only did I invite Santana and her friend, Quinn, to Puck's party, but also I finally had my question answered. Now I know without a shadow of a doubt that Santana is my friend. And it may be premature, but I think she might be the best friend I have ever had.


	6. Chapter 6: Heat

**A/N: Thanks for all who reviewed the last chapters! Review here or hit me up on tumblr (chickpeahearts11) if you want. Enjoy! =)**

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**Chapter 6: Heat**

I yank the tank top over my head and toss it nonchalantly on my bed. I think by now the pile of discarded clothing on my bed holds more of my clothes than my closet. It's just… I want this party to be perfect. For one, Santana is coming. She texted me a little bit after I got home to tell me that Quinn probably won't be able to make it tonight. I didn't mind that it was just her and me though. For two, it's the biggest, most exclusive kickoff party reserved for the coolest students. Well, it usually starts out that way. Word usually spreads and anyone and everyone is able to sneak in. I'll probably be the only non-student there though. But like Puck said, I get an honorary invitation for knowing him for so long.

I look down at my bare, suntanned stomach. I wish it were a swimsuit party. Then I wouldn't be having so much trouble finding something to wear… _Okay, Brittany. Think. This isn't that hard_. I flop down on my bed and close my eyes trying to visualize my clothing options. Within seconds I can tell that I'm calming down, and it doesn't take much longer for me to decide on a trusty pair of shorts and a cute sparkly tank top. After curling my hair and applying some more makeup I smile in approval at my reflection. The buzz of my cell phone pulls me away from the mirror. A small chuckle escapes my mouth as I read the text.

_Gurrrrl let's get our party on! I mean I'm leaving my house now ;) –S_

I type out a quick response and don't even bother looking in the mirror again before I head out the door.

xXxXx

I can hear the boom of the bass a few blocks before I reach Puck's house. It is a little over a mile to walk there, but the summer night is comfortable as the sun is making its decent. When I am only two blocks away I receive another text from Santana saying that she has arrived at the party and is waiting outside by the mailbox. I think since Quinn wasn't coming she wanted to go into the party with someone she knew. I don't mind being that person, though. In fact I'm really excited that she chose to wait for me.

As soon as I turn into Puck's cul-de-sac I scan my eyes across Puck's lawn, looking for Santana. It only takes a second before I see her standing anxiously within a foot of his mailbox. Just where she said she would be. As I continue walking towards her I take in her attire. She's wearing a short skintight dress that accentuates the curves of her feminine frame. It isn't too fancy, but it definitely makes her look like she is in a league above everyone else standing casually in the yard. She hasn't noticed me yet because her back is turned, but I smile at her, standing there looking so nervous. What's there to be nervous about? It's just a college party. With a new friend. Plus she looks really pretty. I bet guys will be handing her drinks all night.

I am able to make it within ten feet of her before she finally turns around and sees me, giving me a beaming smile matching that of my own.

"Hey," I shout out as I continue closing the distance between us.

"Hi," she replies almost in a whisper since I'm now standing right in front of her. She just stands there smiling at me in anticipation, so I quickly switch into the role of pseudo-host.

"So, did you find it alright?" Some of the anxiety leaves her face and her smile softens.

"Yeah, it was super easy to get here. I parked down the street." She points her finger behind her indicating the direction of her car. My gaze follows her finger to the row of cars parked across the street, but I have no idea which one is hers. I'm about to ask which one is hers but am cut off by another question. "Where did you park?"

"Oh, I walked," I answer simply.

"You walked here? How far away do you live?" She's taken back a little. Her face slightly tilting to the side in confusion, forehead scrunching.

"Not very far, just a mile or two. It was a nice walk though." Her eyes narrow at me when I say this, confusion still evident in her features.

"Do you not drive? I could have picked you up." Her curiosity into my ride situation is starting to get amusing by this point. I can't help but smile at her scrunched face when I answer her.

"Of course I drive, silly." She still looks confused, so I continue. "My car just isn't working right now, and usually Brian fixes it but I didn't want to ask him 'til…" I didn't mean to mention Brian, so I caught myself before I could finish my sentence. I didn't want to say what I was thinking, because last time Santana got really upset when I talked about Brian being mad at me. "Well Brian is gonna work on it when he has time."

She narrows her eyes at me and stares for a couple of seconds. I can tell she's done thinking about it when she relaxes her face and nods at me. "Okay, well at least let me give you a ride home tonight. I don't want you walking home alone that late at night."

"Really? Yeah, cool." I can't help the dorky grin that breaks out of my face. Santana is so nice. No one has ever offered to pick me up and take me home just so I didn't have to walk. She rolls her eyes, but I can tell from her silly smile that she thinks I'm funny. She grabs my arm and turns us towards the house.

"Come on, you dork. We're missin' the party."

xXxXx

"Puck!" I finally spot him through the crowd and carefully squeeze my way through the sea of people to meet him, gently pulling Santana behind me. "Puck, this is my friend, Santana." I finally say once we're both standing in front of him.

He glances her direction and does a double take before he speaks. "Damn, Brittany. Where'd you meet her?" His eyes get huge and lustful as he stares Santana up and down. In the meantime, Santana just rolls her eyes in annoyance.

"Easy there, tiger. Keep it in your pants," she says as she puts up her palm in front of her, a slightly annoyed look gracing her countenance.

"Really, Puck?" I stare at him and shake my head until he gives looks at me apologetically. What an ass. "This is the girl I told you about. Remember?" Out of the corner of my eye I can tell that Santana has turned to look at me. I glance at her and see that she has an amused smile on her face, and I instantly start to feel my cheeks blush. I lower my voice and lean into Puck, "You know, the girl that scared me at work…then I told her I wasn't Jewish?"

"What?" Puck practically yelled, disbelief in his voice, making me jump back from him. He throws his head back in a dramatic chortle before getting out, "You said she wasn't hot!"

_What?_ "I didn't say she wasn't hot," I rebuke Puck. I technically never answered him when he asked. I thought she was beautiful, like a princess. I remember thinking that. I quickly turn to see Santana's reaction.

She's just standing there, hand on her chest, head tilted with questioning eyes. "You don't think I'm hot?" She asks quietly.

"No! I didn't say-…You're not-…I mean you _are_-…I just-…" I am super flustered. By now not only my face but my whole body is so hot. I feel light-headed as I try to shake my thoughts into order. "Uh…You _are_ hot, I just-…"

I'm distracted from my muddle by fits of laughter. I look over and see Santana and Puck both bending down clenching their stomachs in hearty mirth, Puck with his hand on Santana's back to keep himself steady. When they don't stop, I join a little bit in the laughter, but I think it's more out of embarrassment than finding something funny. I am beginning to feel really self-conscious, so I squeeze my hands together and stare at my feet. I realize they're laughing at me. And I feel so stupid…

"Your face…" Puck finally looks up and points at me as he begins to collect himself. "You are so flushed and confused. Ha ha, I'm sorry for laughing, but that was hilarious."

"Oh…My…God…Brittany!" Santana finally lets out, wiping tears from her eyes. "You are-…Oh gosh, I'm keeping you around."

Despite my complete embarrassment and need to run and hide in a closet, I smile at the fact that Santana still wants to hang out with me. Even though I'm super embarrassing and awkward.

"Well, nice to meet you, Santana," Puck says as he's still trying to catch his breath. "I got places to be. People to meet. Keep an eye on this one," he flicks his thumb towards me, "She parties hard." With a wink (not sure if it was to me or Santana) he turns and heads off to greet more of his guests.

With Puck leaving so abruptly, an awkward silence has been left between Santana and me. I can still feel the slight blush in my cheeks. Since I don't want Santana to see how embarrassed I still am I keep my head down, staring at my feet.

"Hey," I hear Santana's soft voice closer than she had been a few seconds ago. When I don't look up right away, she lifts her hand to my chin to guide my eyes towards hers. "Hey, I'm sorry for laughing. I wasn't laughing at you. I hope you know that." I think she pauses to give me time to say something, but I don't know what to say. I'm still super embarrassed, and I'm sure my cheeks are still bright red even if they don't feel quite as hot as before. I nod in reply, but not before casting my eyes back to the floor. She sighs and lifts my chin so I'm looking at her again. "I'm laughing because the same thing kind of happened with Quinn…and me…about you. I swear I was…" She finally breaks her eye contact with me and looks up. I think she was trying to find the right word. I can tell that she is starting to feel a little embarrassed and can see traces of rosy pink color her cheeks. "…I don't know. It was just super awkward and she was laughing for da-, she _still_ laughs at me for it!" I finally crack a small smile, and she returns it with a sweet one. "Now every time we talk we end up talking about you..." She pauses for several seconds and just looks at me, brown eyes staring into blue. Eventually she shakes her head and lets out a sigh.

"You are just so freaking adorable." Her smile is genuine, and her eyes are soft and inviting. I'm still not entirely convinced I didn't make a complete fool of myself but it makes me feel better that she did the same thing and willingly told me the story to cheer me up.

I take a few more seconds to take in her enchanting smile before I build up the courage to ask, "What did you tell Quinn?"

A look of surprise crosses her face before she sees my sly grin. "Ha ha, nice try! I'd have to be _very_ drunk for me to tell you that." At that, I break into giggles. She's quick to join in. All traces of embarrassment and awkwardness thrown out the window.

"Let's get started then." I quickly grab her hand and pull her behind me towards the kitchen. I don't think she was expecting that because she let out a small shriek, causing me to giggle some more.

xXxXx

We're a couple of drinks in, and I can feel myself starting to feel really loose and giggly. I'm glad I'm sitting on the counter, because I think I'd look more tipsy if I was standing up. I can't believe we haven't even left the kitchen yet. Santana has been super funny, pretending to be the hired bartender for anyone coming into the kitchen for drinks. Except most of the time she hasn't even been adding alcohol to the drinks she's been making for other people. She says they're all too drunk to realize. This becomes evident as we have to try to suppress our laughter as they take a sip and compliment her on the drink. I even had the idea to put out a tip jar, and so far we've collected twenty-seven dollars in tips.

"Here ya go, girlie," she says as she slides me a new cup while patting my thigh. "It's something new."

I stare into the pink liquid and pout a little at this fact because the other drink she made me was my new favorite drink, and I wanted another one of those, not something new.

"Quit your pouting and try it. You'll like it, I promise." She threw a straw at me, forcing my pout to break into a smile.

"Fine, but if I don't like it you'll have to make me the other thing."

"Deal," she says through a teasing smile. As I slowly raise the cup to my mouth she freezes with her eyebrows raised in anticipation. I take a small sip and purse my lips a few times before the corners of my mouth rise into a smile. I look over to see Santana's 'I told you so look.'

"See!" She adds just for good measure. I lick my lips to taste the rest of the fruity drink on them.

"This is delicious, Santana. What did you put it in?" I don't wait for her answer before I raise the cup back up to my lips and take giant swig.

She gives me a cunning smile and a wink before answering, "Not gonna tell you. How do I know you'll stick around and hang out with me if you can make them yourself?"

"Oh, please," I roll my eyes at her playfully. "This is the best party I've ever been to." I pause because I'm sure I wouldn't have said that so openly without the aid of alcohol. She probably thinks I'm really lame, but it's the truth. I've never had more fun at a party than I've had laughing with Santana for the last hour. And I haven't even danced at this party! Wow, imagine a party where I dance with Santana…

I can feel the heat rise to my face again, and I'm so thankful that she didn't hear my thoughts. When I finally chance a glance at her I'm surprised when I see her looking at me with a sweet smile. "Me too."

The way she's looking at me plus her recent confession makes my insides feel warm. And I know the heat isn't just from the alcohol I drank. I think Santana can tell that I'm blushing, but she doesn't mention it. She just grabs her own cup before offering her other hand to me.

"Wanna mingle?"

I slowly grab her hand and immediately feel the warmth that her soft hand provides. I cautiously inch off the kitchen counter before grabbing my drink and nodding at her. She doesn't let go of my hand as she turns and pulls me toward the living room into a sea of people.

xXxXx

I feel a soft hand on the small of my back before Santana leans in to whisper into my ear over the music. "Did you want another drink?" Her breath feels warm on my ear, and I feel a chill run through my body as she pulls away to look at my eyes. I'm trying to remember how many we've had. Six? Eight? I know we've been mingling for a while, meeting new people (none of which are very impressive). Every time I finish my cup Santana offers to make me another drink. After the second time she offered I playfully asked her if she was trying to get me drunk. She didn't respond except to give me a wink before she headed back to the kitchen to make me another.

Right now I definitely am feeling the effects from the sequential drinks. Santana doesn't even look phased by the alcohol. It's no fun if we don't stay the same amount drunk. She needs to drink more.

I nod at her. "You pick." She nods back in reply before slowly removing her hand from my back and turning towards the kitchen. Just like with her breath on my ear, I immediately miss the warmth of her hand on my back. I raise my eyes in the direction of the kitchen hoping to see Santana coming back with our drinks. It's only been a few seconds though, so I'm not super surprised when I don't see her yet. I should have offered to go with her.

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be left all alone." I jump at the sudden closeness of the gruff voice in my ear. My body involuntarily stiffens as a giant, rough hand slowly wraps around my waist. I quickly twist out of the stranger's embrace while grabbing his hand to remove it from my middle. My eyes widen as I take a step back from him.

"Whoa, easy girl." He puts his hands up in defense as a lazy, confident grin grazes his face. He towers over me in height, but his smile is inviting enough that I relax my posture slightly. "I just wanted to offer you a drink." His crooked grin grows to show off most of his white teeth as he slowly reaches forward with a drink in his hand. I hadn't realized he was holding a drink already. Was he always holding that drink? I eye the cup suspiciously before looking back at his inviting eyes. I hesitantly reach up and take the cup before giving him a small smile.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he says with a flirty wink before slowly backing away from me. "I'll see you in a bit, just gotta catch up with a friend."

I find it a little weird that he offers me a drink then just walks away. Usually when boys give me drinks they just hang around hoping I get tipsy enough to dance all over them. Maybe this guy genuinely just wanted to give me a drink because he thought I was pretty. If only he had been here a few minutes ago, then he would have seen how pretty _Santana_ was. I'm sure he would have given the drink to her instead of me if she were standing here.

The thought of Santana brings a happy smile back to my face. I'm having so much fun with Santana. I'm so glad we're friends. I turn back towards the kitchen again, remembering she was getting us more drinks. _Wait, but I got a drink_… I look down at the full cup in my hands before looking back up to the kitchen. I didn't want to drink more than Santana. I wanted us to be equal tipsy 'cause it's more fun to be at the same level. Maybe we could share this drink. I'll drink half then she can have the rest. That way we'd still be at the same level and this drink wouldn't go to waste.

I raise the cup to my lips and take a small sip from it. The drink is gaggingly sweet with traces of bitterness, and I can't really tell what is in it. I don't think it's very tasty, but it was nice of the guy to make it for me. Santana makes much better drinks though. Still I don't want it to go to waste, so I close my eyes and try to take a big gulp and swallow before I taste too much of it. The bitter-sweet liquid stings my throat on the way down causing my eyes to water a little bit. I open my watering eyes and look down into the cup to see that it's not quite halfway yet. Grudgingly I close my eyes again and take one more big gulp before hurriedly swallowing the foreign liquid.

_Yuck_. I rub my tongue back and forth against the roof of my mouth to try to get the bitter taste from my mouth. I suddenly realize that I am probably making really weird faces, so I turn around quickly to see if anyone is watching. Across the room I catch sight of the guy that gave me the drink, and he is smiling at me with raised eyebrows. I can tell he's silently asking me how the drink is, so I force a smile on my lips and nod all too enthusiastically. I bring the cup up to my mouth again and force down another sip so I don't hurt his feelings. His face lights up even more, and I'm glad he thinks that I am enjoying his gift.

I turn away from his so I can wipe my tongue on the roof of my mouth again. _Gross_. There is no way I'm going to make Santana drink this. I turn back towards the kitchen again, and this time I see Santana as she makes her way towards me with two drinks in her hands.

"Something wrong?" She leans in to ask me after she takes in my expression.

"This is just a really gross drink," I reply with a disgusted face as I hold out the cup for her to see. She eyes the cup, looks back at me, back at the cup again, and then finally back at me. I can tell that the drink is starting to affect me now because I am having a hard time focusing on her large brown eyes. I guess it had more alcohol than I originally thought.

Her face turns serious as she asks, "Britt, where did you get that?" The worry is evident in her voice. _Why is she worried?_

"A guy gave it to me." I twist at the waist to try to point at the guy, but he isn't there anymore. "He was right over there…literally, like a second ago…I don't know where he went." I strain my neck to look around some more before finally giving up and turning back to face Santana. All of the twisting is making my head spin, so I wait a few seconds before I add, "He was nice though."

"Are you feeling okay? You look…I don't know, like really drunk all of a sudden." She reaches out to touch my arm with her hand, but she can't grab me because both of her hands are full. I stare down at her hand holding the cup close to my arm. I really want her to put her hand on me again because it felt so warm and nice last time.

…

"Hey, Britt." Her sharp, worried voice makes me snap my eyes back to hers. "Hey, sweetie. There, look at me." I blink a few times to try to clear the haze from my vision. Santana looks like she's repeatedly leaning closer then further away. _Or am I the one moving?_ "Why are you rocking? Hold still," her voice is soft, but I can still hear the panic rising. I can feel myself being held in place and my head involuntarily falls down to look at my arms. Santana has both hands, both holding red cups, against my arms. I watch as she removes her left hand from my arm and brings it to my chin. She gently lifts my chin and forces me to look back into her eyes. Her eyes are so pretty and deep and dark. I want to swim in them_. That doesn't make sense_. I want to_…_ My brow furrows as I try to think of what I want to do with Santana's eyes. They look like…like smooth, creamy dark chocolate.

Without hesitation I leisurely albeit clumsily raise my empty hand up to reach for her eyes. She gently grabs my finger, holding it tightly against the cup in her hand.

"Hey, sweetie. I'm gonna get you out of here, 'kay?" Her voice is so soft, and I feel so safe standing here with her. "I'm gonna get you out of here. It'll be okay." I don't know where we're going, but I'm excited that she wants to come with me. I just nod my head in response because I feel like I don't know how to talk. At least I think I nodded. Maybe I just thought I nodded but didn't actually nod.

Santana's eyes open wider, and I think she's truly worried now. It's hard to tell though because my vision is getting more and more hazy. She quickly turns around, and my body jerks forward with her. My eyes follow my arm in front of me and I see that she still has my finger wrapped in her hand. I don't know what she is doing, so I just watch her feet and follow her the best I can, trying not to fall over. After just a few paces she finds what she is looking for and sets the two cups in her hands on the bookshelf, but she doesn't let go of my finger. I try to hand her the cup from my hand but quickly realize that I'm no longer holding a cup. _Where did it go? Did someone take it? _

She turns back to me so quickly that it makes me dizzy to see her moving so fast. I must have faltered a step because she quickly reaches out and grabs around my waist with her free hand and moves her other hand to hold my wrist instead of my finger.

"Hey, shh, it's okay." I can hear her soft whispers in my ear, but I'm not sure why she's saying that. "No need to cry. I've gotcha."

_Am I crying?_ I raise my free hand to my face. It takes a few seconds to find my face, but when I do I feel tracks of tears running down my cheeks. _Why am I crying?_ _Is something wrong?_ I can feel the anxiety in me building. Santana is worried. She's taking care of me. But why? I don't think I drank that much. We were having fun, right? All these questions are causing my head to spin, so I close my eyes to focus better. _Did something happen?_ The harder I try to think the foggier my brain feels. With my eyes still closed I reach out with my free hand and wrap tightly around the first thing I come in contact with.

"I got you, Britt." I must have grabbed onto Santana, although my sense of sight seems to be useless now. I am calmed by her smell, though, and her warm hands around my waist and on my wrist. I can feel where her skin burns into mine. Not a bad burning though. Not like fire. Like…I don't know how to describe it. Right now, as I feel like I'm falling apart, it's the best feeling in the world. Because she is the thing keeping me grounded.

…

I feel my hand being shaken, and I allow my eyes to follow the movement until I see Santana looking at me with wide, compassionate eyes.

"…hear me? I'm…set…couch…right back…just... Puck…in the…get him…help...sweetie?" She was talking really slowly, but her voice sounded far away. I don't catch every word, but I think I caught the gist of what she was saying. I force myself to nod my head in an exaggerated motion to make sure she sees it. "Good," I hear her say as I see a relieved smile form on her face.

I can feel myself being gently lowered onto the couch. _Where did the couch come from?_ _Where am I?_ I feel myself start to panic again, and I tighten my hold on whatever I'm holding.

"Hey…okay…let go…Britt…trust me…" Santana's sweet voice is soothing, and I take a deep breath of relief. She is so nice. And she smells so good. I feel her warm hands grab my wrists and slowly pull my arms away from her neck. I watch my hands as she gently places them in my lap. I latch them together tightly. My fingers are interlaced so it looks like I'm praying. I haven't been to church in a long time. I think since the funeral…

Warm, soft hands on my cheeks force my eyes up again. I try to focus on the eyes in front of me. I know that it's Santana. The smell. The burning warmth of her hands. Even if I can't remember much else right now, I know it's her sitting in front of me. I close my eyes and sigh as I feel her presence calm me.

When I open my eyes again I think I'm starting to sway because I see her getting closer. Instead of getting further away though, she leans towards my forehead. I feel her soft lips plant a sweet kiss to my hairline before she leans back and smiles at me.

"…right back, sweetie," she whispers before she slowly backs away, taking the warmth on my cheeks with her.

…

_Wait! What's happening? Where is she?_ I turn my head in all directions, hoping to find her. All I see are hazy figures moving in all different directions. My head is spinning, and I force my eyes closed as I feel a bout of nausea. I can feel the panic start to rise within me again. After what seems like seconds I feel warm hands wrap around my arms again. I let out a breath of relief as I feel the heat from them.

_Wait_. Big, rough hands that don't burn in the good Santana way. I stiffen. The hands feel slightly familiar, but I can't place them. They definitely don't belong to Santana. And the smell. It's not the sweet, comforting scent that I've come to associate with Santana. It's stale and sour and not at all comforting. I try to force myself to sit up, but between my unresponsive body and the weight of the person leaning on me I am not going anywhere. The person leans in really close and blows into my ear. I can practically feel the lips touching my ear when I hear the gruff voice speak.

"Pretty girl like you shouldn't be left here all alone."

* * *

**I hope everyone was able to follow this chapter alright. I'll try to post the next chapter soon. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7: Aware

**A/N: So I've written a whole lot more than this section, but I haven't got it quite right yet. I need to work with it a little more. This first part is done, though, and a couple people asked if I could post it in two parts. So here it is. The next part will be a lot longer, but I feel bad for making you wait for the whole thing. Hopefully I'll get the rest of the chapter up soon! Thanks for being patient with me! You guys are the best!**

**Enjoy! =)**

**Chapter 7: Aware**

…_Thump… …Thump_… …_Thump_…

I'm aware of something, but I'm not sure what that something is…

_Thump_…

I know I feel pain. Lots of achy pain…

_Thump_…

And exhaustion. I feel more drained than I've ever felt in my life…

_Thump_…

And that pounding in my head!

_Thump_… Oh, that's what the thumping is…

Now that I know where the sound is coming from I try to block it out so I can focus on what else I'm aware of._ I went out last night. Puck's party… And Santana came with me… Santana… I wonder where Santana is. Wasn't she with me? We were laughing… But then she got worried. Why was she worried?… Wait! There was someone else. Did that person make her upset? Or was she upset with me?… No, she held my hand, right? It was really warm and soft. And it burned, but not in a bad way. It burned in the best kind of way. But sometimes there was warmth that wasn't good. But that wasn't Santana. That was someone else. Is that the same person that made her worry? Who was with us?…_

I try to focus on the details of the night, but my brain is so hazy. And the more I try to pry into my thoughts the more my head spins and pounds. With frustration I decide try to figure out where I am now. I'll come back to thinking about last night later.

I decide to start on my sight. I know my eyes are closed, and I make a slight attempt to open them. Nothing happens. They are just too heavy and sore. Not ready to exert that much effort, I decide to hold off on opening my eyes just yet. Instead I try to focus on the rest of my body. I'm lying on my back, I think. _Yes, on my back_. I think I'm on a bed. But my head is on something…soft…but also kind of hard. But it's definitely not on the bed. My right arm is extended towards my feet, but it's …_throbbing?_ _Why is it throbbing?_ I try to lift it, but it feels so heavy. But not just heavy, it feels immobile. I try to lift it again, putting forth a stronger effort. I'm able to lift it a little, but not much. The movement causes a pain to shoot up my arm, and my whole body flinches in response._ What the…_

I freeze. My stirring has suddenly caused another shift in movement. The mystery surface beneath my head gently stirs beneath me, causing my head to spin in dizziness. I close my eyes tighter to repel the nausea that is suddenly rising up. It's then that I feel the warmth radiating from a weight on my forehead. I feel a similar warmth wrapped around my left hand.

I stiffen and focus all of my thoughts on the warm weights on my head and in my hand.

_Hands_. The warm weights, they're hands. Someone is loosely holding my left hand. And another hand is on my head, halfway in my hair. It only takes another second before the familiar warmth spreads over me, followed by that sweet inviting scent. _Santana_. She's here. She never left…

With that thought I feel calm. The fact that I don't know where I'm at or what happened doesn't even matter anymore. I feel safe and content. I realize that my head is lying in her lap with her legs lightly squeezing around my sides. I feel like I'm wrapped in a warm and cozy human cocoon. I can tell she's sleeping by the slow, steady rise and fall of her torso against my head, which I just now noticed.

Knowing that Santana is here with me makes me want to revisit my sight dilemma. Even though there's no doubt in my mind that she's really here, I want to open my eyes so I can see her. To make it more real. I take a deep breath and focus all of my energy on my eyes. I'm surprised when a room comes into view with my first effort. I'm even more surprised though when half of the vision of my right eye is obscured. I blink and try again. My right eye is still only half open, not to mention tender. It doesn't take me long to decide that I have a swollen cheek, maybe even a black eye. _What the hell? Please tell me I didn't get in a drunken fight…_

My thoughts are interrupted when I catch sight of brunette strands hanging over my face. I resist the urge to reach out and touch her silky hair. Instead I tilt my head up just enough to see her face. The new position causes my head to pound more heavily, but I don't regret it. The sight in front of me is one of beauty. Santana is fast asleep, her head tilted down and to the side, her ear almost resting on her own shoulder. It can't be a comfortable position, and I wince at the thought of the pain it's sure to be causing her neck. Her face is so intriguing though. All I can do is stare. On one hand she looks so fitful and worried, evident by the creases in her brow. But she also looks so serene, mouth hanging slightly open with the corners slightly raised. It's quite a conundrum.

Everything about Santana is so fascinating. And mystifying. Sometimes she looks at me with such concentration, searching me for answers that I don't even know the questions to. Other times she looks at me with the sweetest, most caring smile. Like she knows a secret so precious and wonderful that she can't help but let it spill out onto her face. Then there have been the couple times when she has given me such a bright, radiating smile that make me feel like I'm her favorite person in the whole world, which doesn't make sense because we haven't even known each other a week. Still, that's how it makes me feel. I can only compare this look of adoration to how my mom used to look at me when we sat on our bench together. But even then, it's not exactly the same as my mom.

The dull ache coming from my down-stretched right arm is what finally pulls my eyes away from Santana's face. I lift my head from her lap just enough so I can see my right arm, casted in blue from my elbow to my hand, nestled in the groove between mine and Santana's leg. That explains the weight and sharp pain, I guess. Now I really am considering the option that I got into a drunken fight with somebody. But I'm usually such a happy drunk…

The slight movement of fingers in my hair relaxes me again. I slowly track my eyes back to Santana's face and see that she's stirring but still has her eyes closed. Her nose is all scrunchy and her eyes are squeezed tight. Her head bobs up and down a few times, and I can't help the small smile that forms on my lips as I watch her struggle to open her eyes. She's too cute. I squeeze her hand still around mine to encourage her. That seems to give her renewed effort, and she opens her eyes just a second later. Big brown orbs stare down at me in surprise, but they quickly soften, flooding with relief.

"Britt! Hey," her voice is raspy from just waking up, but there's so much comfort that escapes with the softly spoken word. She looks so happy to see me.

"H-," I try to respond, but only a dry little cough comes out. She gives me a sympathetic look as she runs her fingers over my hair, brushing strands away from my forehead.

"It's okay. Don't try to talk. You had a rough night."

I close my mouth so she knows I won't try to speak again. I also must have given her the greatest look of confusion because she softly chuckles while moving her fingers from my hair to smooth out my brow.

"Everything's okay. Just rest now. I'll tell you everything once you sleep some more. You need sleep." She moves her hand from my brow to my cheek, carefully resting it on my face without hurting my swollen cheek. Her hand is warm, and I can't help but relax under her soft touch. At the mention of sleep I realize just how tired I am and how appealing that sounds. I can feel myself getting drowsy, my eyelids getting heavier. They flicker closed but I snap them back open. Her eyes stare into mine and her head gives me a little nod. She wants me to sleep, but I don't want her to leave. The only reason I'm not freaking out right now is because I feel safe knowing she's here. I don't want her to leave me and be gone when I wake up. I look back at her with pleading eyes, and she seems to understand what I'm asking.

"I'll be here when you wake up again. I promise." With that she moves her hand back to my hair and starts gently brushing through it with her fingers. "Close your eyes," she whispers.

I slowly yield to her request and let my heavy eyelids fall. She moves our joined left hands tighter into my chest, so it feels like both of our arms are giving me a hug. With the combination of warmth and the soothing strokes through my hair I can slowly feel myself slipping from consciousness. My ears pick up soft melodic humming before I finally sink under.

xXxXx


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